Thorns
by HelloMaryLou
Summary: There have been four important women in his life. You could say he loved them all. Milah, Cora, Regina, and his beloved Belle. Vignettes about his time spent with all of them. [Please Read and Review! I live on feedback! Let me know if I should continue this! Thanks!]
1. Chapter 1

_Milah_

* * *

There she was walking with the other girls, giggling in the bright sunlight.

She carried her washing close to her flowering body and flipped her shining ebony curls over her shoulder when she passed him standing on the little porch of his modest home.

Her eyes, swirling with a million different blues and greens, were rimmed in thick black lashes.

Her pink lips were barely pulled up at the corners, a taunting smile that she dared not give him.

Thick, dark brows arched perfectly when one of her companions chirped, "He's staring again!"

But she didn't hear.

Her eyes were locked with his in one of those sweltering juvenile glares; the kind that promise long Sunday walks and frustrated nights lying in the wet summer grass.

Carefully he leaned onto the old wooden banister.

It creaked even with his meager weight.

She let her extraordinary eyes skim down the front of his lean body.

And then, with a toss of her head, she was gone.

* * *

_Cora_

"You're just as dark as I am, aren't you dearie?" he growls into her creamy neck.

Long silk clad arms wind their way around her tightly corseted waist and she presses against him.

He loves it.

He loves her.

She loves him.

"Get me out of this thing." She gasps.

"As you wish."

Stiff red taffeta pools around her ankles magically and she turns to face him.

Her demon lover.

Nose to nose.

"_Take it all_." She hisses.

* * *

Regina

"Can you help me?" this lovely girl with big, watery cow eyes whispers hopelessly.

She's a crumpled pile of ivory voile and thick waves.

Her engagement ring sparkles on her slender finger.

Hands like her mother….

A cold shiver passes through his body but he shakes it off and plasters a sickening grin to his ruddy face.

"My dear child," he purrs, stooping down to raise her from the ground, "I shall _always_ help you."

* * *

Belle

Payment came in the form of a selfless young woman with eyes like the summer sky.

He hoped that she would refuse; repugnance and disgust firm in her voice, but when he heard the soft, lilting accent seep through the protective barrier of King and fiancé he knew he had finally gone too far.

"I will go with you." She said with her head so high and self-righteous it made his black heart skip a beat.

"It's forever dearie." He said in warning.

_Please, do not do this._

One gnarled finger swayed in chastisement.

But she was resolute, this baby blue beauty.

Her expression said, "I_ am_ strong."

So he offered his arm.

* * *

_Milah_

Every day he waits for her to pass.

He knows she will come walking down the dirt lane around midmorning and he is always there watching.

He stills the wheel and breaks from his work even though he knows he shouldn't.

His heart quickens when she rounds the bend carrying her family's dirty clothes.

Her hem is covered in mud and tattered; her apron is worn and yellowed.

She should be dressed in the richest of silks, not faded calico.

Her feet are without shoes because they are a luxury her parents cannot afford.

But that face.

Even in the poorest of garments she could outshine a Queen.

Sometimes her hair is tied back with a scarlet ribbon, other times it's loose and flowing.

He longs to run his callused finger through it; heft handfuls of it to his nose.

Then one day she smiles and says, "Hello."

* * *

Cora

He gropes underneath her petticoats until he finds her, hot and ready for him.

Little beads of perspiration dot along her forehead and the bridge of her perfect nose.

The delicious curve of her red mouth quivers when he tickles her _there_.

He latches onto her collarbone and begins to worry the area with bites and kisses.

Never does he stop his lecherous ministrations upon the future Queen.

If that simpering Prince or future father-in-law of hers should suddenly walk in what should they think?

A beast ravishing their treasured beauty.

"_Don't stop_." She whispers raggedly into his dirty locks.

What would they say?

Here is the Miller's Daughter about to couple with a monster?

Alabaster legs, gartered with ribbons spread wide for an inhuman creature.

He grows hot at the idea.

Quickly, with his other hand, he frees himself.

"You belong to no one else but **_me_**, never forget that."

His hand is cupping her throat; his eyes glow with jealously and passion.

She only smiles.

But it doesn't reach her eyes.

* * *

Regina

"_I don't know how to pronounce these words!_"

She slung the spell book halfway across the room where it landed with a loud smack.

She hugged her crossed legs to her chest; her pale blue nightgown flowed over her bare toes modestly.

"Now dearie," he cooed, "don't be a pouter! You mustn't be so quick to let your emotions get the better of you!"

He's lying beside of her on the state bed made with cream and rose colored linens.

With legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles.

A lazy confidence held him up against several little throw pillows.

"I don't know how to do these things Master!" she cried, resting her chin on her knees.

Her dark hair spills over her shoulders and sleeved arms.

From profile, she looks exactly like her mother….

"My dear girl, that's what I am here for. What do I _always_ tell you?"

Slowly, lovingly, he snatched curl and twisted it about his claws.

She sniffled and looked at him through a veil of nearly black hair, "That you're here to help me."

"And what else?"

He teases the healthy strand with a wicked smile.

"That _I_ deserve to rule my own life and not allow others to manipulate me."

She stalled between her words as if trying to recall lines to a poem.

"Correct dearie."

He releases the curl and lets it fall back into form with the rest.

"You are a beautiful, sensitive girl Regina," he says gravely, "and you mustn't _ever_ let anyone take advantage of you."

She turned in the bed to face him, "How can I do that!? How can I become strong without becoming a monster like my moth-"

She stops herself before she can get the word out.

Her flawless face blushed and he cupped her powdered cheek.

"Like your mother?" he finishes for her.

Her eyes are downcast when she nods childishly.

"Oh my dear," he soothes, "you will _never_ be like her if I have anything to do with it."

She smiled bashfully and flicked away a falling tear.

Her rosebud mouth smiles at him gratefully.

Like a child who scraped her knee.

He has bandaged her.

"Thank you so much for helping me Master, you're the only one I can truly trust."

He is a monster.

* * *

Belle

It has been so long since happiness occupied his life.

When Belle came she brought with her the colors of the kingdom.

No more black shadows and blood red waistcoats.

Shining maple curls and carefree eyes waited for him in the library, eager to read a passage or discuss a topic.

One night he slips.

"You are so beautiful Belle." He says randomly.

She's sitting on an overly large cushion at his feet, devouring another gilded novel.

Instinctively, he reaches out an aged, disfigured hand to skim through her loose curls.

He has totally forgotten himself.

Yet, she doesn't recoil.

She reclines against his calf as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He doesn't stop petting her, nor does she look up from her pages.

* * *

Milah

He always calls on her after dinner.

She comes running from the back of the rickety shack wiping her red hands on a soiled dish towel.

"Hello." He says awkwardly, always awkwardly.

He brings flowers.

Daisies, roses, and sometimes bluebells.

Twice he brought ribbon for her hair, pale yellow and royal blue.

After the supper things are put away and she changes her apron they walk together.

Other young courting couples pass them by and smile.

Milah takes his arm.

He can feel the softness of her breast.

He swallows the lump in his throat.

"May is my favorite month you know." She says, breaking the barrier of uncomfortable silence.

"No, I didn't."

He keeps his eyes on the ground.

"Well now you do." she giggles.

"What's your favorite month?"

He thinks for a moment, "December."

"_December?!_" she wails in disbelief.

He smiles crookedly, "I like the cold."

Another silence falls between them as they pass the village gate.

Every now and then she presses her breast tight against his forearm.

He's sweating.

They follow the cobblestone wall covered in thick green moss.

He daren't look at her.

"How come you to grow your hair so long? It's nearly as long as mine!"

She says, turning to face him.

He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles, "I don't like haircuts."

"Does it feel as soft as it looks?"

They stop.

"I suppose, I'm not sure." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, "I've never touched anyone's hair but mine own."

She leans against the rock wall, "Well you can touch mine, I don't rightly mind."

Her small hands rest on her narrow waist.

"Truly?" he says hesitantly.

"Surely! Go on ahead!"

She laughs and shakes her hair in front her face like a lion.

Slowly, he reaches out and takes a lock in his rough hand, rough from the wheel.

_This is what silk feels like then…_

"Soft." He murmurs, letting it go like it burned him.

She giggles and pushed it all back from her face, "Glad you approve."

He smiles, abashed, and looks down to his feet.

"May I touch yours?"

"I-I don't rightly mind." He stutters.

Two feminine hands wind through the hair at his temples, the front of her body presses against his and too fast they're nose to nose.

He doesn't know what possesses him, but he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her flush against him.

She sucks in a little breath.

Her fingers tangle in his chocolate hair, "Your's is soft too."

He makes no noise, he only breathes in the scent of her.

Lye and lavender from the washing.

"Would you care to kiss me Rumplestiltskin?"

"Aye, that I would."

* * *

Cora

"All my life I've been waiting for you."

Cora's tangled head is resting on his exposed chest, glittering with sweat after their love-making.

"Once Upon a Dream, dearie?" he chuckled breathlessly as he kissed the top of her head.

"I knew you would save me, I knew my life would not be wasted as my mother's had been."

"Was she as beautiful as you?"

Cora pressed her face into his chest and smiled, "No one was as beautiful as she," she paused and smiled wistfully, "she was the fairest of them all."

He stroked her hair lightly.

He traced the little ridges along her spine.

"Do you resemble her?"

She laughed musically and it filled his stomach with butterflies.

"Not a bit, I look like my father."

She sounded sad, disappointed at the end.

"I look _nothing_ like her…"

"How was she?" he pried in a soothing tone that he had long forgotten.

Cora sighed heavily and burrowed into his blouse.

"She was _golden_. Her hair was the color of the thread we spin, perfect and shining. She never wore it up, even after she was married. It always hung loose like a maid. She smiled kindly when I done idiotic things, she laughed when my father came home drunk and foul. She floated. I strove to be like her, perfect in every way. I wished my hair would turn gold like hers and my eyes would be like hers, so warm and amber. She would brush her hair two hundred times twice a day, and she washed it in rose water perfume. We couldn't afford it but she was so beautiful the old man selling it would fill her basket to the brim for free. In the bedroom she had a drawer of silk ribbons, all colors. We couldn't afford them either, but the Taylor always let Mother have her pick. He would let her have bolts of fabric to make frocks too. Here she was this goddess with a little bedraggled girl nipping at her heels and a husband who passed out every evening before sunset. But she always laughed. The butchers gave her choice cuts; the baker let her come behind his counter and choose for herself. Men bowed to her in the street and laid their capes over mud holes so that we might pass."

Cora had risen up on her elbow as she reveled in the story of her mother.

The embroidered sheet had slipped down thus exposing her white breasts.

"I had all of my days with her. When my father would come home she dressed me in my nightgown and took me down the lane to my grandmother and I wouldn't see her again until the early morning. She would sleep beside of me for a time then my grandmother would come in with a steaming kettle and pour a bath. She was _perfect_.".

* * *

Regina

"What do you make of her?" Cora said abruptly as she stepped out of the darkness.

He was standing over the newborn heir's bassinette, pondering the fact that his lover had lain with another man and borne him a child.

The baby girl wriggled in her swaddling with an apple red face peeking out from all that lace and ribbon.

The royal nursery was silent and black except for the moonlight streaming through the floor length windows.

It was an opulent room; every detail had been handpicked by Cora.

"I think she looks like her father." He choked out, trying to make his voice higher but it didn't work.

Cora only smiled.

She was dressed elegantly in a lavender ball gown that was trimmed in white lace and sewn with pearls.

Her ring and bracelet heavy hands were folded comfortably across her stomach; she was confident in her position nowadays.

"I shall take her from you; I will turn her heart black as night."

"Yes, you may very well do that but just remember this-"

"_What?!_" he hissed, turning on his heels to face her.

She smirked.

"I know your name."

* * *

Belle

"How did you know roses were my favorite?!"

On the long mahogany dining table sat a cut glass vase bursting with fat yellow roses.

Belle rushed to them and sunk her face between the petals to inhale her most beloved scent.

"I am omniscient after all, dearie."

She turned and smiled at him, "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin."

He bowed low like a gentleman.

"Think not a thing of it my lady."

She tossed her fuzzy curls behind her shoulder and plucked a smiling yellow flower from the bunch.

"A favor." She said as she pinched the face of the rose from its stem.

Then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to do, Belle walked up to him and tucked the flower into the lapel of his brown waistcoat.

Her white hand lingered there, pressing against his chest.

"Wear it over your heart."

* * *

Milah

May faded into June, then June into July, and before Rumplestiltskin realized it they were in the hottest days of August.

He worked on linens now, wools and flannels were to come in the colder months and that would hopefully earn him enough money for a gold-washed ring.

He would never be able to afford true gold.

Milah deserved gold.

He looked down at the thread in between his fingers and sighed, "Oh, that I could spin this damned straw into gold."

He let the thread fall to the floor.

He cared not for spinning as he once did.

He was restless these days.

He blamed the heat but he knew what the true matter was.

Every night he and Milah would steal away to the wood or a hayloft and kiss until their lips were sore and bruised.

He had never known such a feeling.

Last night she had let him lie atop of her.

Though they were fully clothed, Rumplestiltskin could feel the womanly outlines of her body.

They had to get married.

He loved her; he desired her.

Would she say yes?

He could give her a comfortable life, much better than the one she was living now with her mother and father and six other siblings.

She could have a few new dresses and pretty tortoise shell combs for her thick hair.

They could walk together in the evenings and then at night he would take her to his bed and make love to her.

He slumped against his wheel at the thought of lying with Milah as his wife.

He had a little money saved, but not enough to ask her just yet.

She would need things, a new thatched mattress, a new set of china, several more iron pots and pans, linens, and he desperately wanted to buy her the fabric to sew her wedding dress.

He had been to the Taylor's shop in the village and asked about enough white calico to fit a woman about her height and weight.

There was even a little bolt of lace that could be used for her veil.

Perhaps he could give her some of that; perhaps he could give her the world.

* * *

Cora

"You're getting good dearie, before long you'll be better than I."

Cora grinned and crossed the room to where he was seated, one long leg thrown over the carved arm of her vanity chair.

"Do you really mean that?"

She was wearing only her petticoats and stomacher.

"Well, come a little closer and I'll tell you." He said wolfishly as he patted his leather clad lap.

"As you wish…._Master_."

* * *

Regina

"Did you know my mother before she became evil?"

Rumplestiltskin looked up from his work table, "I knew your mother when she carried your grandfather King's flour on her back for a living."

"Do I look like her?" Regina said sweetly, flipping her long braid back over her shoulder.

"No, you have the look of your father." He said flatly.

But in truth she was the very image of her mother.

"I'm supposed to be a Queen you know."

He giggled that unnerving giggle of his and waved his hands stupidly, "So was your mother dearie! But look at how the cookie crumbled for her!"

Regina rolled her dark eyes and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her habit, "I'm not going to be like her, I shall be a great Queen and my people will love me."

* * *

Belle

"You missed a spot dearie!" the Dark One squealed at his new maid as she scrubbed the black marble floor of the forgotten ball room.

"Where?" she huffed, flicking a loose strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes.

He smiled and with a hefty swing his mud caked boot, kicked over her pail of dirty wash water, letting it flood her nearly finished floor.

"_There_."

* * *

_**So what does everyone think? Please R&amp;R! Should I continue these little chapters in our favorite Imp's life? Thank you for reading!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Milah**_

_"I know it's not much, but it's all I have." _

_The young spinner held out a plain, cheap ring in his callused hands. _

_She just stared down at it dumbly. _

_"I want you for my wife." _

_**Cora**_

_It burns when he watches her with the Prince. _

_How she prances, so fully aware of her beauty and power. _

_Henry thinks he's won a prize in her, that he'll pluck her flower on their nuptial night. _

_A sickening grin danced across his gold flecked face. _

_How little the Prince knows..._

**Regina**

**"**_Do you even realize how beautiful you are Regina?"_

_He stood behind the fledgling with his gnarled claws resting comfortably on her bared shoulders. _

_She cocked her head oddly and squinted her eyes at the flawless face reflected before her; the same face she saw everyday._

_Daniel had called her beautiful. _

_To him, she had been beautiful in every sense of the word._

_"But your heart Regina," Daniel would say," is where your true beauty lies." _

_Regina frowned. _

_"Where does beauty get you? Nowhere. My mother was a celebrated beauty and just look where it got her." _

_She tried not to sound bitter, but a hard edge laced her words. _

_"Tut, tut, tut!" He warned as he shook one long finger, "you're looking at it all wrong my pet! With beauty you can rule the world." _

_Regina only rolled her eyes at the imp. _

_"Here!" He said as he slid his hands down her bare arms, "Skin smoother than silk."_

_She sharply shrugged his hands away. _

_"Don't be churlish with me you ungrateful chit." _

_His tone was dark, his face was stoic. _

_Regina glared at him in the mirror. _

_"I'm not ungrateful to you." She said, low. _

_"Any girl would kill to be in your position dearie." _

_"I know." _

_She looked down at her gloved hands. _

_Her engagement ring sparkled mockingly. _

_"Stand up, let me look at you." _

_Regina obeyed. _

_"How wise of you to wear white." _

**Belle**

_"Where do you go at night?" _

_Belle sat on the rug across from him with her knees pulled up to her chest. _

_"What do you mean dearie?" _

_She wiggled her little toes deeper into the threads of the carpet, "Do you sleep? Sometimes, late at night, I hear you banging about, I just wondered..." _

_"You lie awake at night and wonder about the beast?" _

_"You're not a beast." She reprimanded. _

_He chuckled and rested his curly head against the high back of his chair. _

_"I do my best work at night, but if I bother you I shall make an effort to stop." _

_Belle started, "Oh no, it's not that! I don't mind your noise really! I was just curious I suppose.."_

_She fiddled with the embroidered hem of one of her petticoats idly. _

_"What do you suppose?" _

_Belle smiled shyly, "I suppose I expected you to hang from the ceiling like a bat." _

_He giggled that high, sharp giggle and cocked his head at her. _

_"No my dear, I sleep, be it very little, but when I do I prefer my bed." _

_"To think of you curled amidst a sea of down and damask is quite funny." She quipped. _

_He giggled again and rested his chin in his palm. _

_"Well, I' must show you my bed sometime Belle, maybe then you won't find it so comical." _

**Milah**

_And so they were married. _

_He brought her into his small, sparse home as his wife. _

_After the wedding party, torches lit their way home. _

_He was so proud. _

_Milah was his now, and he was hers. _

_Silently they climbed the weathered porch stairs. _

_His hand itched to reach out for hers but he didn't. _

_His little house was plain and nearly bare except for his wheel, a table and chairs, and an ancient china hutch pushed into a faraway corner. _

_No curtains hung on the three windows, no rugs were laid over the rough plank floors. _

_He closed the door and latched it as she solemnly placed her bouquet on the little kitchen table. _

_"This is yours now." _

**Cora**

_"Must you hang on him so?!" He railed at her. _

_Cora only smiled at the Dark One. _

_He was no different from any other man, jealous, possessive, and lustful._

_"Just because it's not you..." She taunted as she pulled the silver brush through her dark hair. _

_In less than a second he was upon her, his hideous hands steadfast around her white neck. _

_"You'll not play me as you do him, as you do his father, as you do the stable lads when they scrape the mud from your boots." _

_She didn't fight him. _

_She didn't cry or tear at his hands. _

_She just smiled that blank, well-bred smile. _

**Regina**

_"She will be called Regina, for one day she shall become Queen!" _

_He appeared out of thin air with his long arms outstretched in a beckoning gesture. _

_Regina looked up from her piano with a start. _

_He grinned. _

_"Did I scare you?" _

_"No, of course not." _

_She folded her hands daintily in her lap. _

_"Now, now my pet, no one cottons to a liar." _

_One raven brow shot up impertinently, "If you couldn't already see Master, I am occupied." _

**Belle**

_As they sat together, Beauty resting at the feet of the Beast, he fought the urge to touch her. _

_She was lost in her novel, as always, and blissfully unaware of his inner tortures. _

_His thoughts of her were improper. _

_She was so young and kind..._

_"Belle?" He said in a tight voice. _

_"I'm here Master." She replied in a distracted voice, her eyes and mind still within her book. _

_"Won't you pour me a cup of tea?" _

_"Hmm?" She hummed absently. _

_"Tea my dear, a nice cup of tea if you please." _

_He hisses over the "nice" like it burns him. _

_His nails dig into the rich wood of the chair. _

_"Oh, oh yes of course." She smiles obligingly. _

_Dutifully she rises and goes to the tea cart. _

_Her pretty little feet sink into the rich carpet with each step. _

_She pours his tea, sugars it and creams it perfectly, then makes her way back to him. _

_"Here you are." _

_He takes the delicate cup and saucer in shaking hands, the jittering of bone china splits his ears but Belle seems not to notice. _

_"Aren't you going to taste it?" _

_He smiles wistfully into the cup._

_"No Belle, I know it's...perfect." _

**Milah**

_He knew very well what was to be expected of him tonight. _

_Awkwardly he walked to his wife and touched her shoulder. _

_The soft calico of her wedding dress eased him a little and when she turned to face him with a tiny smile he felt relieved. _

_"Where's your bed?" _

_He swallowed, shocked by her abrupt question, and pointed to a doorway with a red plaid blanket tacked over it. _

_She took his sweating hand in her own and together they made their way into the tiny, neat bedroom. _

**Cora**

_"I saw you." He says from the shadows of her chamber. _

_"I saw you with the King." _

_Slowly, he stepped from the darkness, hands clasped in front of his groin. _

_"Lots of people see me with King everyday, what makes you so special?" She says in a matter-of-fact tone as she ties a pale pink ribbon on the end of her long braid. _

_His upper lip twitched with suppressed anger. _

_"Yes, but I wager they've never seen the King with his hand buried in your bodice as I just did." _

_Cora rolled her chocolate eyes, "Oh. That."_

_"Yessss," he hissed, "That." _

_She crossed to him and shrugged off her wrapper, "Will you help me with this?" She gazed at him over one creamy shoulder, her corset ties exposed and ready to be plucked. _

_He looked at her, the woman he loved. _

_He had saw her in the arms of another man. _

_She had kissed another man. _

_But, she could never love another man, not as she loves him. _

_Roughly he pulls her to him and yanks at the ribbons until they're undone and her body is free from it's steel cage. _

_She only loves me..._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Milah**_

There was no questioning his chastity.

"Aren't you going to take my dress off?" She said, amused.

His long hair hung in front of his blushing face, a silky curtain attempting to hide his embarrassment and naïveté.

Her veil lay neglected across the footboard of their rickety little bed.

He swayed uneasily as she stepped closer to him.

"Have you ever lain with a woman Rumplestiltskin?"

She knew very, very well he had not.

Laying her hands flat on his chest, she pressed her body against his.

"Why must you tease?" He whispered under his breath.

Milah rolled her blue-green eyes and flopped down on the edge of the bed.

"My! How soft!" She smiled as ran her hands over the freshly laundered blankets.

"I hoped you would find it so." He said, still standing.

"You're very neat, to be a single man. I didn't expect it."

"I don't make much of a mess, I never have."

"Oh."

She then began unbuttoning the plain bodice of her cream colored wedding dress, "I thank you for the cloth. I never had a dress quite so nice."

She shrugged the top off and folded it carefully, then placed it on the night table at her side.

"It was nothing."

"It was perfect Rumplestiltskin."

_**Cora**_

After Cora tore out her own heart, despite the many reassurances that she had truly loved him, he knew she hadn't.

She couldn't.

She was dead inside, he saw it plainly now.

Love had clouded his vision and dulled his senses.

His judgement had been compromised as well as everything else.

Cora was nothing more than a climbing whore.

She only used him for his power; he was but another rung on the ladder to unattainable respectability.

_"I want them all to kneel." _

He should have saw it then.

But her skin was so pale and smooth, her lips were so red and full.

Ready to be claimed.

The first time he wound his arms around her ribs at the wheel, it was too easy.

No one could want him.

No one could love a beast.

_**Regina **_

"Put that trunk down over there please."

The newly married and crowned Queen Regina pointed at the foot of her ornately carved bed and the two manservants dutifully complied.

Unpinning her wide-brimmed hat she waved them both off.

"That will be all, thank you."

Tossing the bonnet on her bed she sighed heavily.

She was Queen.

She was a wife.

Her husband had taken her on the same honeymoon as his dead wife.

The Summer Palace.

Regina looked around her chamber, eyes heavy with exhaustion, when she eyed the bell pull beside of her bed.

Only moments after yanking it a very pretty girl dressed in plain grey livery bowed deeply to her.

"Yes your majesty?"

"I would very much like a bath," Regina pulled lethargically at her riding gloves as she spoke, "make sure the water is very hot and unpack my trunks, when I'm done I shall chose my gown for dinner."

"Will there be anything else your majesty?"

She sighed and rubbed her young forehead.

"No, that is all."

Her shoulders ached with a burden too heavy to carry.

Regina undressed herself slowly, letting her clothes fall wherever they may, not caring for once in her life for wrinkles.

When the maid came back Regina was sitting on her vanity bench dressed in naught but her undergarments.

"Your majesty's bath is drawn." She said uneasily.

Regina nodded slightly, "Come un-pin my hair, I want to wash it."

Carefully, the girl pulled down her new Queen's elaborate coiffure, trying not to snag or tangle one strand of her healthy, dark hair.

"Is that satisfactory majesty?" She chirped.

Regina's thick waves hung over her shoulders and breasts, "of course." She replied absently.

"Is something amiss your majesty? Would you rather have a lie down before you bathe?"

Genuine concern laced the young maid's voice.

Regina only shook her head as she rose from the mirror.

The maid stayed behind to tidy the new queen's chamber.

_**Belle**_

"Rumplestiltskin!"

"What?!"

"Here, come closer, in the light! Look!"

"Turn me loose you foolish girl, I do not like to be handled."

"Oh shush!"

Sunlight streamed brilliantly through the fourteen foot window and shone directly on the Dark One.

"See! Look!"

Belle had her back to the glass and her hands on his bare forearms.

He squinted painfully in the bright assault.

"Look at what you wench!? I'm nearly blinded!"

She scowled but it was soon replaced by another beaming smile when she saw his face and chest glitter just like his arms.

"You're glowing! Just like a new gold piece!"

The young maid searched his face, seeing the sharp good looks, the long aquiline nose, the warm tawny eyes.

"_You're beautiful._"

_**Milah **_

He had never saw a woman undressed before.

Milah lay beside of him, hands folded across her stomach, totally nude.

Rumplestiltskin had shed his boots, trousers, and jerkin also, ashamed of the way his body had reacted to seeing his wife's body.

Two candles gave the room a hazy, golden glow that made hiding his hardness difficult.

He didn't want her to think he was overly lustful.

He shifted awkwardly beside her.

"You can touch me if you want."

Her hair was splayed over the pillow; the big curls smelled of soap.

"Thank you." He replied with a slight cough.

She raised her arms over her head and rested them against the headboard.

Rumplestiltskin turned his head and swallowed hard.

Her breasts were perky and full with light brown nipples peaked to a tight tip; her waist was narrow, her stomach looked smooth and flat, her hips were slim.

But his eyes were drawn to that patch of dark down that rested between her trim thighs.

"Would you mind if I touched you...there?"

His hand caressed her thigh, but they both knew where he truly meant.

"I don't mind."

_**Cora**_

Bitch.

_**Regina**_

The girl followed directions very well, the bath water was unbearably hot.

Just as Regina liked it.

Her hair, freshly washed, was piled atop her head and stuck through with a lacquered stick.

Both arms rested on the cool porcelain edges of the bathing tub; she felt the exhaustion and pain melt away into the clear, steaming water.

"You made a beautiful bride my pet!"

The familiar, shrill voice sang in Regina's ear.

Long fingers with sharp, yellowed nails curl around her shoulders comfortingly.

"You were there?"

"Of course."

The deal-maker caressed the right side of his pupils face, and as he done so, he wiped away an errant tear.

"Queens do not cry my pet."

"Why?" She whimpers.

"They have no reason to."

_**Belle**_

"What did you tell her about me?"

"Who ever are you talking about dearie?!" He snapped irritably from his work table.

Belle hesitated a little before speaking , tracing circles with the toe of her slipper.

"That beautiful blonde girl in the Great Hall." she finally said, timidly, "I'm sure I've never seen her before but she acted as though she remembered me quite...fondly?"

"_Bloody Hell!" _He exploded as a bottle dropped from his withered hands and landed with a sizzle on the stone floor.

She jumped, but recovered and immediately asked him if he was alright.

"Yes, yes! I'm fine!" He hissed.

"I'll go get a cloth."

She tried to duck out of the room but he stopped her.

"No, don't bother."

With less than a wave of his hand the mess was gone in a puff of crimson smoke.

Belle wondered to herself, '_If he can do that, then why did he need a housekeeper?'_

_"_Another potion gone up in smoke!"

Rumplestiltskin rested against the cluttered desk with his dragon-hide covered back to the little maid.

An awkward, uncomfortable silence settled between them and Belle knew that he must be very upset with her.

She fiddled with her apron before finally saying, "Well you can always brew another!"

She tried to sound optimistic, but it fell flat.

He laughed, high and mockingly then whirled around to face her.

"You think it's just that simple?!"

His fingers wiggled and danced with his words; his mouth pulled and twisted itself into a nasty grin.

"_Well you can always make another one!"_

He repeated in an exact copy of Belle's voice.

"You're so idiotic! You know _nothing _of magic dearie! Why don't you just scurry along and think of the family you've lost!"

She fisted two handfuls of her skirt tightly, "How dare you be so, so, so-"

"_Beastly?!" _

In one fluid motion, he knocked half of his bottles and beakers to the ground.

They crashed and hissed with their various contents making different colored clouds of smoke as they met the ground.

"_There_," he snarled as he walked toward her, "you can clean that up."

Rumplestiltskin flicked his wrist impudently at the heavy oak door and it obediently creaked open.

"I'm through cleaning up your messes Rumplestiltskin, just like I'm through with trying to be decent to you! You're a bitter, lonely soul and I pity you!"

Belle moved to pass him when he caught her shoulder.

"So my beauty has a temper does she?"

He smiled that wicked, deal-maker smile.

She looked crookedly at his hand on her shoulder.

"When it comes to _you_ I do."

"Well it seems I've misjudged you then my little flower," he cooed, "I thought you were all rainbows and sweet dreams under that lovely blue frock."

He clicked his tongue against his teeth when he came to the 'k.'

Belle seethed at him, squinting her eyes as if to say, "_You wicked little man."_

"I like your temper dearie, I'm getting to you and you don't even realize it!"

Rumplestiltskin dusted her shoulder off playfully.

"You're not '_getting' _to me."

Slowly, deliberately, he placed his right hand flat against the wall beside of Belle's head and leaned in close to her face.

"Oh, I am," he licked his chapped lips, "brick by brick."

_**Milah**_

The young spinner lay spent between the accommodating legs of his new wife.

She patted his smooth hair as he rested his cheek on her breast.

"Do you think I'll have a baby now?" Milah whispered.

"Perhaps, we'll have to wait and see. It would be rather soon."

"Yes, that it would."

"But it would be nice."

"What do you want Rumplestiltskin, a boy or a girl?"

He sighed heavily at her question.

Carefully he took her hand in his and kissed the smooth, tanned skin.

"It would be nice if the first was a boy."

_**Cora**_

"Regina, it's not _that_ difficult my dear, here, look."

Cora took the raised hand of her daughters dance master and moved elegantly to the pace of the music.

"_She's learning a new dance." _

Rumplestiltskin said to himself as he observed from the shadows.

Cora was making Regina feel inadequate, as usual, and that only made Regina withdraw even more into herself.

"_Why can't she see that?"_

Regina was eight years old now and promising to be very beautiful.

But her personality was deeply, deeply flawed by years of her mothers meddling.

Cora twirled and bounced in ways that Regina, a small child, could never do.

"Are you watching Regina? Are you paying attention or are you daydreaming?!"

Regina scrunched her brows and nodded, "Yes Mama."

"Good, as a queen you _must _know how to move!"

Rumplestiltskin felt his upper lip jump with new irritation as he watched her.

"Your Majesty doesn't dance, you float." The dance master whispered into Cora's ear.

She smiled a slow, sultry smile and molded her body to his.

"_You never change dearie."_

Regina still looked on, her feelings obviously hurt.

"_Obvious to everyone but her mother..."_

"I am honored to be dancing with you, your highness. Your beauty is even more dazzling up close." He smiled.

"Oh how you do run on!" Cora laughed, her diamonds glittered in the mid-morning sunlight.

"_You don't laugh like that with your husband dearie..."_

She hadn't lost her beauty in these ten years past.

She still made Rumplestiltskin's pulse race.

Her vermillion gown was cut stylishly with silver brocade trim.

Her breasts were pushed high by her corset and were prominently on display due to the shamefully low neckline of her bodice; her waist was just as narrow as he remembered it.

Cora's thick, black hair hung down her back in a waterfall of curls and perched atop her head was a diamond tiara.

"Your Majesty," a red-faced maid interrupted as she bustled into the room, "The Princess' music teacher is impatient for her lesson to begin, shall I take her?"

Regina looked relieved and light hug from the older maid made a little smile cross her pretty face.

"I suppose." Cora said stagnantly.

She never did have any respect for the help.

"Come along dear." The maid said comfortingly to little Regina as she bustled her out ahead of her.

"Tomorrow Regina, you practice for two extra hours!" Her mother called from the arms of the dance master.

The Princess never turned around.

_**Regina**_

"How did you pass the night my dear?"

Leopold appeared in their adjoining doorway, already dressed for their expected morning ride.

There was no consummation.

She waved her long, aristocratic hand signaling the pretty maid to leave the room.

"It was odd sleeping in a new bed," she looked at Leopold in the mirror and smiled warmly, "but it's very beautiful. Thank you."

He gave a light, relieved sigh and closed the few feet separating them.

"I was worried that you would not like it."

"You mustn't worry, I like anything that is a part of you."

She said it so sincerely...

Like she meant it.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me Regina."

Lovingly, he placed his ringed hands on her shoulders and smiled.

"What else am I here for Leopold?"

She grasped one of his hands in hers and touched her soft lips to it quickly.

For a moment he just stood there, staring down at her.

She was so beautiful, so young.

She could breathe new life into this Kingdom; into Snow White.

Then maybe, if the Gods blessed them, there could be sons.

"Is there something amiss my lord?" Regina asked, breaking his revelry.

"No my darling," he raised her from the vanity bench, "everything is quite perfect."

Leopold pulled his new bride to him and kissed her fully on the mouth.

Regina let her arms wind themselves around his neck, her fingers threaded through his grey curls.

When they finally broke apart, Leopold brushed a few stray hairs away from his Queen's eyes.

"Shall I meet you in the stable then?"

She nodded shyly, "Yes, I'll be down in a moment."

He continued to gaze her, trying to grasp the fact that she was his now.

"I have a surprise for you, so hurry my dear."

Leopold bowed deeply and kissed her hand.

"Thank you my lord."

"For what?"

She looked unsurely to her husband, then let a slow, little smirk creep across her flawless face.

"For everything."

_**Belle**_

"_Belle, dear." _

Rumplestiltskin whispered lightly to the snoring pile of powder blue calico that lay crumpled before the fire.

He knew she was in a deep sleep, but he also knew that spending the night on a stone floor, even though there was a rather plush rug, would make Belle feel awful the next day.

"Dearie you've got to get up now." He said soothingly from his chair.

Her book was laid open just a few inches in front of her hand.

Her slippers had been placed neatly beside of his chair.

Belle made a little fretting noise and scrunched her brow, "But I want to sleep!"

Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but smile at her.

"You can't very well sleep on the floor."

She turned away from him and pulled her knees to her chest.

"I can if I want to." She shot back groggily.

He rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from his seat.

Belle lay only about a yard in front of him, "Come on then dearie, I don't want you rolling over into the fire."

He lightly tapped her with the pointed toe of his boot as he talked.

Something between a growl and a moan escaped her.

"Leave me alone."

"How I wish I could." He mumbled under his breath.

_**Milah**_

"Good Morning, Wife."

She smiles sleepily at him.

Rumplestiltskin is warm under the old quilts and satisfied that his wife was still at his side.

Bright sunlight floods through the only window making her black curls shine.

"What would you like for breakfast?" She asks.

"Why don't we skip breakfast?"

_**Cora**_

"Soon I will be a Princess."

Cora is lying across his chest, her hair flowing loose over her shoulders.

He snarls but she doesn't see.

"Counting down the days are you?"

He's snippy.

"Impertinence from you my love? I'm shocked."

She places a kiss on the sparkling skin of his chest.

"What shall become of us?"

He's suddenly hit with a feeling of deep sadness.

He doesn't want to lose her, his truest love.

"Whatever do you mean Rumple?"

Her breasts feel wonderful against him.

"You will be another man's wife my dear, are you planning to cuckold him?"

"I think Henry would wear a pair of horns gracefully." She laughs.

"Well I shan't."

"What?"

He narrows his gaze to the wire figure across the room dressed in Cora's wedding gown.

"I won't share you dearie."

_**Regina**_

"Very good."

Rumplestiltskin walked slowly inside from the balcony.

His hands were behind his back, an approving smile evident on his golden face.

She rushed to his side.

"I'm so afraid of him."

Her eyes were wide and girlish again.

"He'll try and bed me tonight I know it."

Nervously she pulled at her bodice, Rumplestiltskin eyed her up and down.

"And what of it? You've got to let him sometime or another, he's your husband now."

"But I'm so scared Master!"

She wanted to hug him, but she knew that would be wrong.

He froze at any sort of contact no initiated by him.

"My dearest child," he sighed, "there is _nothing _to be frightened of."

"I don't want anyone to touch me but Daniel!"

His golden eyes darted to her stupid face.

"Your stable boy is long dead! He's never coming back, so get that fairytale out of your childish head or I shall _make _you forget him myself."

His face twisted into a hateful, menacing expression as he spoke.

It chilled Regina to the bone.

She only stared blankly into those smoldering eyes.

"Put your hat on and your gloves," he ordered, "and paint a smile on that beautiful face, your husband the King is waiting for you, try to look happy about it."

_**Belle**_

He's just a man.

A man like any other.

Belle makes him feel things that he thought were long dead.

He worries over her; he longs for her.

The way she smiles at him when he's being petulant.

How she drags out the night, not wanting to leave his side.

He watches Belle as she sleeps, and sometimes when she bathes.

Slowly, he falls in love with her.

It's a pure, chaste love unlike any he's ever felt before.

Just breathing the same air is enough.

Walking through the massive hedge labyrinth, talking of books and life.

He tells her little about him, but he does enjoy listening to her.

"I was going to rule, I was raised to rule." She says one day, twirling a rose between her thumb and index finger.

"And now you're just a prisoner."

It wasn't hateful or malicious.

He looked very remorseful; pained by his actions for the first time in a long while.

She stops and looks at him, "How can you say that? I came of my own free will Rumplestiltskin."

"After I gave your father an impossibly difficult ultimatum."

He smiled forlornly.

"Without you we all would have died. I thank the Gods for you," she touches the sleeve of his blouse tenderly, "You helped me fulfill my greatest wish."

"And what was that Belle?"

"I done my first, and only, selfless duty as Sovereign. I sacrificed my life for the lives of my people."

She held her head high when she spoke, a crown could never be a heavy burden to her.

A small hamlet Kingdom's darling with the hopes and dreams of her people placed upon her shoulders.

Rumplestiltskin, The Dark One, looks down at her white hand covering his forearm.

"I am sorry your majesty."

"There is no time in life to be sorry my lord." she smiles, "I've never been sorry, only grateful."

She is the woman he loves.

His heart is so full, so resolute in it's discovery.

He bowed deeply and respectfully to the Princess as he brought her small hand to his lips, "You are my priceless treasure, the greatest deal I ever made."

Rumplestiltskin looked up at Belle and saw her as the Queen she should have become.

_**Milah**_

"The war can't come here, it won't."

Milah clings to her husband of four months, trying to hold the burning tears back.

"You mustn't worry Wife, even if it does come I shall do my duty to the Village."

"No Rumplestiltskin."

She can't keep her tears from falling now.

"There my dear," he whispers into her ear, "Nothing will happen to me, tis an honorable thing to be a soldier."

"What good will honor do when you're dead!" She sobs.

"Honor can give you a great many things, it will live on after me, my reputation will be one of a brave man, not a coward."

"You could never be cowardly to me Husband."

_**Cora **_

"_What have you done?!" _

Rumplestiltskin storms into Cora's darkened chamber with an empty vial in his hand.

He yanks the sheer curtains away from her bed, ripping holes in them with his jagged nails.

His eyes are nearly black with rage.

Cora lies upon a heap of fluffy down pillows looking terribly pale and drawn.

Sweat dots her hairline and upper lip, the chamber pot sits on her bedside table already halfway full with blood and vomit.

She barely turns her head to acknowledge him.

"_What did you do!" _He rails, throwing the empty vial at her.

Weakly she touches the vial, "I done what _had_ to be done."

He bares his rotten teeth in an unholy grimace.

"_You done it to save yourself! To save your engagement!"_

She closes her eyes and exhales deeply.

"I couldn't allow it to happen," her voice is thin and tired, "I couldn't be mother to a monster."

"I should kill you, I should snap your neck or crack your bloody skull between my palms."

He's seething with hurt and anger, but his tone is suddenly dark and low.

She's murdered the deepest part of their love.

"You drank that and _purged_!"

"I am ill, go away please." She whispers.

"I hope it kills you."

Rumplestiltskin feels yet another string of his humanity snap.

The Darkness inside of him seeps a little deeper into his heart.

"I hope you bleed yourself to death."

Cora utters something between a laugh and sob, "Oh my love, I have too much to live for now."

_**Regina**_

"Happy Birthday Regine."

Her old teacher surprises her, it's been nearly five years since she saw him last.

"What do you want?" She says icily.

"Such a frosty welcome for your Master my pet!"

He giggles that haunting squeal that splits her ears and chills her blood.

"I'm going to ask you again, what do you want?"

The years have changed her.

A loveless marriage and frequent homicidal fantasies will do that to you.

She's dressed in a tight, peach colored gown trimmed with rich brown ermine.

Instead of long waves or a simple braid tied off with ribbon, her hair is a network of pins and curls piled a mile high on her head.

Her countenance has a mature beauty to it now, long gone is the childish softness of that sixteen year old girl Rumplestiltskin manipulated so long ago.

"So hostile, so flippant."

He approaches her casually, like an old friend.

"Still perfect." He says, gesturing to her face.

"But I hear Snow White grows more beautiful each day, soon she will surpass you as the fairest of them all."

His long arms open and his fingers wiggle with excited magic.

Regina is unmoved.

"I have something for you my pet."

"You have nothing I want."

Turning from him she goes to pull the maid's bell.

"Oh you will want this..." He snickers from behind his fingers.

"Unless it is Snow White's heart on a silver platter, you're wasting your breath and my time."

"Don't you ever wonder where your father disappeared to dearie?"

She stopped, "What do you mean?"

"Oooohh curious now are we?"

"What do you know?"

"You seem to forget who you speak to my pet!"

He smiles devilishly when she whirls around to glare at him.

"Impudence will get you nowhere Regina."

She swallows nervously, somehow he had turned back the clock and she's that shy, weak little girl again who knows nothing.

They're in the Forest, he's teaching her how to start fire in the palm of her hand...

"Tell me what you know please," she locks eyes with him,"_Master_."

_**Belle**_

Every night since Rumplestiltskin gave Belle her own chamber she cannot seem to shake the feeling being watched.

After the candles have been blown out and the pale moonlight floods through the tall windows, she waits for sleep to claim her but instead she feels uneasy and afraid.

Once she swore there were two glittering green eyes staring down at her, along with a flash of gold.

"I wish Rumplestiltskin were here." She whispers into the echoing darkness.

Little does she know...


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all very much for the reviews! Please keep them coming! **

_**Milah**_

"What am I going to do."

Milah sat with her head in her hands as her closest girlfriend rubbed her back comfortingly.

"How long has it been since your last course?" Elizabetha said in a hushed tone.

"June, nearly two months ago now."

"Oh my..."

Milah sighed heavily, "I get dreadfully ill in the mornings too."

"Oh, Milah!" Elizabetha whispered, "How do you hide it?!"

"I get up earlier than everyone else and empty the chamber pots, that way Mother doesn't see it nor can _anyone _hear me wrenching in the woods."

Elizabetha caressed her friends long hair lovingly.

"Was it-"

"-Yes it was him." Milah snapped, cutting Elizabetha off before she said his name.

She couldn't bear to hear his name.

"So that's why he left the village..."

Milah only nodded.

"What did he do when you told him?"

"He didn't _do _anything."

Elizabetha looked down at the rough planks of the back porch, "How many times did you lie with him?"

"_Eliza_!" Milah exclaimed.

"Well?" She asked with a stubborn stare, wanting to know about the girl she considered her sister and the painfully handsome drifter that had passed through their village.

Milah looked at her and narrowed her eyes, "Too many times to count." She answered in a level voice.

The crickets started to chirp in the grass behind them; the severe heat of that August day was turning into an equally sweltering night.

Elizabetha toyed with the frayed hem of her pinafore, "What was it like?"

Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, ashamed to ask such a question yet still wanting to know.

"It was like dying and then being brought back to life."

Milah spoke with such conviction, such reverence that her eyes began to mist.

"It's like making time stand still for a few moments, and not a thing else existed but us."

"Where did you go? How did you get away from your family and that whisp of a Spinner?"

Milah gave Eliza a conspiratorial smile.

"When Father was in the field and Mother was in town, I would put Michael and Reece in my bed for their naps," she giggled as she remembered the daily ritual, "knowing they would sleep for an hour or two and I would meet him in the wood."

"Weren't you afraid of someone finding you?!"

Elizabetha raised up on her knees, eager to hear more about the midday trysts between her dearest friend and _him. _

"When I was with him I didn't think of anything else, I couldn't. He was the world, my world."

"Mother said he was trouble the first day he showed up here carrying everything he owned on his back. She said he was a no-account."

"He's got more sense than anyone in this damned village." Milah clipped hatefully.

"What about Rumplestiltskin? What if he finds out! He'll tell the whole village you're a harlot!"

"He's not going to find out, no one knows about this, only you."

Elizabetha grabbed her hand, "I'll never tell a soul!"

"You've got to help me Eliza, I don't know what to do."

The two girls embraced, both of them scared and very near tears.

"It'll be alright!" Elizabetha whispered.

"Everything will be alright."

Milah began to sob onto her shoulder, "_How_?"

Eliza was quiet for a moment as she held her weeping friend, trying to rack her twenty year old brain for an answer to this awful problem.

Then she found it.

"Milah," she said slowly, "You said that Spinner was crazy for you, didn't you?"

"Yes, he loves me. What about it?"

"You've got to marry him! That's the way to fix all of this!"

"How can I marry him when he hasn't even asked me!"

"Oh he's going to ask you, very soon too I wager!"

Milah pulled back and studied Elizabetha's face, "How do you know?"

She smiled, "I heard Mrs. Stone tell my Mother when we took her washing the other day that her husband had finally sold one of those gold-washed wedding rings out of the case, and when Mother asked her who bought it she said that it was Rumplestiltskin the Spinner! Now what do you make of that!"

Milah was very quiet; her face was austere and hard, she suddenly looked much, much older than her twenty-one years.

Elizabetha continued to look at her searchingly, hoping that she would see the salvation in marrying Rumplestiltskin.

"_But I do not love him_."

_**Cora **_

"Now, you must think very hard on that which you seek dearie."

They were standing in a clearing, Master and pupil, far away from the castle grounds.

Rumplestiltskin had his hands on her tightly laced waist as he pointed her body outward facing the tree line.

Cora had her eyes closed, a large organdy bonnet shielded her fair skin from the midday sun.

The horse Henry had given her as an engagement gift stood patiently by, tied to a tree.

With her arms uplifted to the cloudless sky, she tried to picture the young Princess Eva dead.

But her teacher could see into her spell and was amused at what he saw.

"Why do you choose the easiest solution dearie? Use your imagination! Why kill her so soon? Why not make her suffer a little hmmm?"

The Dark One brought his lips close to her ear as he spoke, whispering murderous premonitions in place of sweet nothings.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" She said breathlessly.

He chuckled low and pulled her rear close against his groin, "Make her barren. Picture the sorrow of a childless marriage, the sadness and disappointment of a Queen who cannot produce an heir. Think of how happy you shall be when _you _are delivered before _her._"

Cora couldn't help but to smile.

She knew Leopold and Eva had celebrated their first anniversary recently, but no royal birth had been announced.

Maybe there was still time...

"A useless Queen, withered and dry inside."

Happily she recited a spell that would soon ruin Eva's life.

"Very good my dear, very good."

Cora turned to him and touched his face, "You've been so good to me, I've never known kindness like this."

He didn't recoil.

"You and I have a great deal in common."

"How so?" He asked, enthralled by her beauty.

"We're both black and rotten inside, but it's not _our _fault. Evil isn't born, I've decided that it is created."

"And who created you my dear?"

Cora's face betrayed her feelings, those feelings that were always hurt and crushed under the heels of the wealthy and privileged.

"So many."

"Aye, I know the pain."

She looked down to the ground reliving in her mind all the humiliation she had endured since she was old enough to realize her poverty.

The betrayal of the man to whom she had entrusted her virtue.

The abandonment of their child.

Leopold denouncing her as a liar and con before the whole court.

And Eva, spritely Eva who had ruined her one chance at happiness.

"She tripped me, she stuck out the toe of her silk slipper and _tripped _me."

Cora looked over Rumplestiltskin's shoulder and into the wood.

"When I fell, spilling flour all over myself, I felt something inside me snap. I can't live the life of a Miller's Daughter, and I will _never _kneel before _anyone _again as long as I live."

_**Regina **_

"Why are you keeping me here?"

The pretty, blue eyed jade asked Regina calmly.

She had snatched the little maid upon the height of her victory and then threw her in a holding room.

Presently, Regina was standing before the girl, smiling that sinister, deadly smile of her's.

"Rumplestiltskin _loves _you my dear and that makes you _extremely _valuable to me."

"You're so wrong Regina, he doesn't love me at all."

Belle had tears in her eyes as she spoke, hating to remember and admit his rejection.

"He made you leave didn't he?"

Her beautiful prisoner nodded solemnly.

"Don't you see my child? He sacrificed you because he did not want to ruin you. He drove you out to save you, not because he doesn't love you, but because he _does_."

"You would say anything to get me under your thrall."

"Perhaps..." The Evil Queen mused, "But until the time is ripe I am going to keep you very, very close, _Princess_ Belle."

_**Belle**_

There were hundreds of rooms in The Dark Castle, many of which to Belle's dismay had _locked_ doors.

On this day, nearly a year into her stay with Rumplestiltskin, she found herself feeling incredibly idle and her active mind itched for something, _anything _to occupy it.

So she decided to go exploring.

The Dark One had been gone for five days, no doubt dealing with some poor, unfortunate soul or plotting to overthrow a Kingdom.

He wasn't there to supervise nor admonish her for peeking in places she should be.

Eagerly, checking over shoulder with each step, she scaled the grand staircase with feline grace and litheness.

She ignored the first landing she came to for she knew that floor all too well since her rooms were located there, and instead continued up to the third level.

Belle came to a darkened hallway that appeared to be very long and lined all the way down with dusty suits of armor.

She walked fearlessly down the corridor all the while telling herself that she _must _rip down the faded red velvet curtains and let some light into the eerie spot.

Cobwebs littered the swords and jousting poles of the hollow Knights-At-Arms making Belle inwardly lurch.

She _loathed _spiders.

Shaking off her uncomfortableness, she smiled upon seeing the first door.

It was like every other door in the castle, ornately carved with gilt scroll work and a large golden handle.

Belle grabbed the handle and turned, very pleased that it was unlocked.

Gingerly she stepped inside, leaving the door ajar so it wouldn't slam on her or jam.

It was a large room with plush red carpet and long red draperies that kept a little light out.

She walked over to one of the windows and yanked the curtains back, all the while stirring up ancient dust.

Sunlight came gleefully into the forgotten room as Belle made her way to every window, pulling back the fortiers.

It was a parlor room with several pieces of furniture covered with dingy sheets.

The fireplace looked as if it had never seen a bucket of water and rag; dust lay four inches thick on the little gilt end tables.

Other than filth Belle saw nothing of consequence and left not long after she entered.

Twenty rooms later, she still hadn't stumbled upon anything other than old furniture and cobwebs.

She had sneezed about ten thousand times and had not cured her curious itch.

But the fourth floor was calling her name.

Belle scaled the stairs two at a time until she came to the landing.

Instead of one long hall she faced an incredibly large stained glass window that created a fork in her road.

To her left there was a long corridor and to her right there was a corridor.

The left side looked dark and foreboding, but the right looked a bit cheerier with a lot less threatening cobwebs dripping from every angle.

"_These but be the Western and Eastern Wings then..._"

The only thing she had heard about these particular sections of the castle was, "Never, ever go into the Western Wing! If I _ever _catch you down there I'll skin you alive!"

Needlessly to say Rumplestiltskin forbade it.

"_But Rumplestiltskin isn't here..._"

Bravely, she turned and began down the ominous wing.

He never told her what exactly lay in the Western Wing, but it couldn't been _that _bad or else he would have placed a barrier in front of it.

"_It's probably just old bedrooms anyway..." _She thought to herself as she trekked down the hall.

There were no windows lining this wing, no rusted hulls of metal standing ramrod straight, only strange statues.

Monsters, they appeared to be, beasts and scantily clad women sculpted in stone and marble alike.

One was of a warrior holding up the severed head of what appeared to be a woman, and in place of her hair there were snakes, angry and hissing, yet frozen in grey stone.

She grimaced, but was fascinated all the same.

On her left side she passed a marble lion with his teeth bared in a predatorily hateful snarl.

She noticed he was thinner than a lion would appear be, with a long scar cut into the left eye.

"_Rumplestiltskin is a collector of the diverse indeed..."_

There were so many other unnerving pieces, gargoyles and other frightening forms draped in blankets of spider web.

It was an intimidating place; something inside of her wished she had not come.

Belle had been walking down the wing for a good while, and still she had not found any doors.

A few torches burned dimly to light her way and they casted terrible shadows over the faces of the already fearsome statues.

Hurriedly she passed them by, silently vowing to never, ever come here again.

Then she heard it.

A strangled, broken cry that stopped Belle dead in her tracks

Burying her hands in her apron pockets, she glanced to each side of the corridor, afraid that someone or something was following her.

"_I'm all alone here..." _

Then she heard it again.

A guttural moan that sounded quite close.

With nervous eyes Belle looked ahead of her, the wing took a sharp turn to the right.

She couldn't just stand there surrounded by false, sentient beings that may or may not be moaning at her.

So she ran the rest of the way down the hall and followed the curve of the castle almost running right into the largest double doors she had ever seen in her life.

_**Milah**_

Married life was a fate Milah had resigned herself to.

Rumplestiltskin wasn't a bad man by any means.

He worked everyday to support her, sometimes even long into the night.

For the first time in many years she had a new pair of shoes to wear.

There was plenty of food for once too, fresh daily from the butcher and green grocer.

Milah didn't have to put anything on credit; her little change purse always had plenty of coin to buy the necessaries and anything pretty she might see.

They weren't as well off as some, but they were comfortable.

"What have you got there?" Her husband smiled as she bustled in with her grocery basket full and a large parcel wrapped in parchment.

Since the wedding a month ago Rumplestiltskin had bought her a few new furniture pieces; two chairs for the tiny front room, a chopping block in the kitchen, and a washstand for the small dining room.

Ivory colored curtains spotted with tiny red flowers hung cheerily on the two front windows.

Milah set her basket down on the rickety table with a pale blue table cloth and smiled brightly at Rumplestiltskin.

"Well what is it?" He laughed, rising from his wheel and going to her.

She thrust the box out before her, "Open it."

He gave her an amused look and took the package.

"Couldn't you give me a hint Wife?"

He pulled the twine off and ripped at the parchment paper.

"No, you'll understand when you see it...I hope!"

The Spinner grinned and flipped his long hair out of his face as he lifted off the top of the box.

Nestled inside was what appeared to be a pale pink blouse of some sort that buttoned up the front and had a high collar.

"Pull it out." She said eagerly.

Carefully he unfolded the garment and held it up in front of him.

Then he realized _exactly_ what it was.

He had seen women wearing them in the village for nearly all of his life.

It was an expecting blouse.

"_Milah!?_"

She rubbed her stomach and nodded vigorously, thus affirming his assumption.

"I had it made at the seamstress' to surprise you, are you happy Rumple?"

Tossing the blouse on the table he quickly enveloped her in his arms.

"Oh my love, I have never been happier."

"Truly?"

"Of course!"

He lifted her from the ground and spun her around before kissing her passionately on the mouth.

"We've started our family." She beamed.

"Our family," he repeated, "our child."

Milah cupped his face tenderly, "_Your _child."

_**Cora**_

"Gifts from Henry?"

Her demon lover appeared, casually seated in the chair beside of her bed.

Cora was busy unpacking gowns, bonnets, stockings, and petticoats; all paid for with the King's gold.

"Of course, who else?"

She twirled a little lace parasol and flung it carelessly onto the divine behind her.

"It must feel nice to warrant such admiration."

He was sticking pins, but Cora was in too good of a mood to let him bother her today.

Her soon to be Father-in-law had taken her and Henry on a private tour of the royal jewels, letting Cora have her pick of the fabulous pieces and even allowing her to try on her crown.

Rumplestiltskin eyed the diamond choker Cora was wearing, as well as the matching earrings and bracelet.

"My goodness, the little Prince was in a very generous mood today was he not? Gowns upon gown, furs, capes, and diamonds too. What a lucky lass you are."

"Look here Sirrah," she snapped as she flung a white silk cape lined with silver fox over her shoulders, "I'm not going to let you take that snarky tone with me!"

Haughtily she glared at him, daring an impudent remark to pass his gilded lips.

"You've got me shaking in me boots dearie!" He cackled.

"You're impossible." She sighed, grabbing her lace fan and touching a protective hand to her coiffure.

"And where, pray tell, might you be going dearie? I'm _itching _to make a mess of you."

He rose and slinked towards her.

"Is that any of _your _affair?"

Cora shrugged his horrid hands away from her shoulders, pushing past him to the door.

"_Yes!" _He barked, snapping his fingers to still her feet with magic.

She fought to move but it was useless, she was glued to the floor.

"I haven't seen you in three weeks save for a few quick words and a sickeningly sweet smile."

He was only a few inches behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck.

"_I've been busy._" She replied icily.

"Oh I know, your whole _new _life is one big cyclone of money and _men." _

He spat the words at her like acid.

"Implying that I'm a whore is no new insult to me Rumplestiltskin. Try again."

"You think you're a lady now don't you dearie? That you're an equal among the other high-born bitches of the court? _You're not. _You would be _nothing_ without me."

He circled her as he raved, but Cora stood perfectly still with her head held high.

"Wearing diamonds and silk doesn't make you a lady-"

"_Are you quite finished?!_" She interrupted.

Rumplestiltskin grinned broadly, "_Oh I'm just getting started." _

_**Regina**_

"I can't take this anymore!"

Regina rushed into her rooms with her hands knotted in her hair.

Her teacher was patiently sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"Why whatever is the matter dearie?"

He cocked his head to the left in mock confusion.

Rumplestiltskin knew that she had quarreled with her mother over her up-coming marriage and Cora had used magic on Regina to force her attention.

"It's _her_!" She hissed, afraid that Cora would hear them talking about her.

"Well come lie down right here and tell me all about it my pet."

_**Belle **_

They were massive, imposing doors with two curved metal handles.

Standing guard on either side were two gilded statues, their faces masked by golden sheets carved into the structures.

One solemn torch burned in the short corridor.

Standing stock still, Belle's hand shook as she reached for one of the handles.

Then she heard the noise again.

It was impossibly close; almost directly above her.

She jerked her hand back and clutched her white throat.

"_What was that?!" _

Moments later yet another throaty wail cut through the air.

It was coming from _behind _the doors.

Clearly she heard it this time, a cry of anguish and torment.

"_He couldn't have another prisoner, he wouldn't. He's changed!" _

Should she go in?

"_Maybe he does and, and I can save them, I must do the brave thing." _

Belle recalled the Prisoner Rumplestiltskin playfully called "The Prince of Theives," and how she had helped save him.

"_They might have a family..."_

The one chance that _whoever _was suffering behind those doors had a family, a True Love, a Mother or Father waiting frantically for their return made Belle resolute in her decision.

She was positive the cries were emanating from behind that frightening door.

So Belle done the brave thing.

With a firm grasp she pushed down the handle and slowly opened one of the doors.

She placed the right side of her face against the smooth mahogany and tried to see through the small opening.

Her eye searched over what little bit she could see.

It was quite dark and cold, Belle felt the freezing air wrap around her ankles and she shuddered.

There were four windows lining the left wall, all had to have been well over twenty feet from floor to ceiling and all were tightly drawn with curtains.

She heard quiet moans, little fretting noises coming from somewhere inside.

Belle let the door open a little bit more, allowing her to turn and scan the other side of the room.

And what she saw nearly made her scream.

_Rumplestiltskin_ lay on the largest bed she had ever seen.

_Touching himself. _

Belle covered her mouth with a white hand as she watched him.

He was sprawled across the foot of the bed, fully clothed, with an expression of supreme pain clear on his illuminated face.

With his left hand he appeared to be _stroking_ himself rather quickly as his right hand yanked and pulled angrily at the dark, rich bedspread.

Suddenly, another frustrated moan erupted from his throat.

_"Gods!" _

Belle gasped quietly, afraid that he would hear her.

She was very much amazed.

She had never seen a naked man before.

Well, she had seen soldiers but they neverlooked as..._erect? _

Volunteering as a Nurse gave Belle her first glimpse of a partially clothed, _male _body.

But she hadn't regarded it as sensuously as she was now.

Those men were injured and had required serious aid; Rumplestiltskin appeared to be _enjoying _the ministrations he was applying to himself.

Belle knew she should not be looking at whatever it was she was looking at, but she couldn't seem to pry her astounded eyes away.

He looked so long and _much _firmer than what she had saw in the field hospitals.

And he was the same golden-green color _there_ as everywhere else on his body.

"_My goodness!"_

Slowly he worked now, lifting his narrow hips from the bed when he pulled a certain way.

"_He left his boots on!"_

She giggled into the palm of her hand when she spied the knee-high, pointed toe boots he always wore resting flatly on the carpeted floor.

"_It must have been an urgent need..."_

He let out another low keen and threw his forearm over his eyes.

Belle could see from where she stood that his jaw was clenched incredibly tight.

"_It must hurt?"_

He rubbed up and down with a ferocious speed.

Then he spoke, a hoarse, cracked hiss of a name.

_"Belle!"_

Her stomach leapt into her chest, terrified that Rumplestiltskin had discovered her spying.

But his arm remained across his eyes and he never stilled his working hand.

"_Gods Belle!" _

He bowed his body, lifting his pelvis up from the bed and released one, powerful wail.

She narrowed her eyes to attempt and see what was occurring now.

To her it looked like milk diluted with water running down his unmoving hand.

His chest rose and fell laboriously, as if he had won a monumental struggle against something.

Belle continued to watch as he laid quietly on the bed, recovering from whatever had overtaken him.

His breath came much slower and regular now.

He pushed his unruly curls away from his glistening forehead and sighed.

"_Belle." _

All he said was her name.

A quiet, heartbroken plea that she didn't quite understand.

It was erotic and stirring watching him and she felt a strange throbbing in her womanhood along with a sick quiver in her belly.

What has occurred here?

A hot blush snaked it's way across her chest and face, making her skin feel tight and itchy.

Her nipples prodded the cotton of her chemise; she found herself clenching and unclenching her lush thighs.

Rumplestiltskin tucked himself back into his trousers and buttoned his shirt up properly.

He rose languidly from the bed and rubbed his temples.

"She's driving me mad." He said, obviously torn.

But Belle didn't hear him, she was halfway down the wing; her auburn curls bouncing as she ran by the rows statues.

Her heart thumped wildly against her ribs as she ran, replaying the image of Rumplestiltskin over and over in her aroused mind.

But she didn't realize it.

Clutching her stomach, Belle fought to control her breath as she laid over the bannister.

Nausea overcame her along with an aching at the juncture of her lovely thighs.

She continued to pant heavily and instinctively thrust her hand between her legs, cupping the hurting mound through her skirts.

Still terrified she would be discovered, and partly ashamed, she fought to compose herself enough to make it to her rooms.

Flying down the staircase with blazing cheeks, she ran down her hallway on the second floor.

Belle nearly collapsed against the heavy wooden door, fumbling for the knob.

"Hello Dearie."

The voice came from close behind and made her scream.

She whirled around to face him, her back pinned against the door.

"Did I scare you?" He smirked.

Her hand grasped at her breast, trying to control her erratic breath.

"Not in the least bit!"

He eyed her up and down, then reached out to pull some errant cobwebs from her glossy curls.

"Spider webs?"

She nodded, "Yes, I've been cleaning."

He flicked them away, "It must have been quite dusty where you were cleaning dearie."

"Oh it was, awfully dusty."

She had somewhat recovered herself, but her breast was splotched with red and sweat dotted the bridge of her nose.

Not to mention the lightheadedness that now accompanied the throbbing in her pelvis.

"You seem to be distracted my dear, is something bothering you?"

Casually he placed his left hand, palm down, beside of her head against the door, mimicking that day in the lab so long ago.

She tensed and shook her head, letting her curls bounce invitingly.

"You look winded." he brushed a curl away from her left shoulder and placed his hand directly over her thundering heart.

Belle felt her knees turn to jam.

"Your heart is simply _galloping_ dearest."

She closed her eyes and silently willed it to slow down so Rumplestiltskin would hopefully leave.

She fought the confusing urge to grab his long, clawed hand and shove it between the meeting of her thighs.

"I'm quite fine Rumple really!"

"Are you sure?"

Amusement and false concern laced his voice.

"_Positive!" _She squeaked.

"Well," he withdrew both of his hands and thrust them to his hips, "Why don't you have a lie down then?"

"Yes," she tried to ignore his masculine scent, "I think I shall."

She turned and opened her door, but paused in the threshold.

"I thought you were away? How long have you been back?"

Her nervousness excited him.

"Not very long."

"Oh."

Belle turned and was about to close her door when Rumplestiltskin spoke.

"You know," he said as he folded his arms behind his back, "it's not polite to spy."

Her sky blue eyes grew wide with shock, but when she whipped around to face him, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

_**I just want to thank everyone who has read, followed, and reviewed this story. I genuinely appreciate your interest. **_

* * *

_**Milah**_

He doesn't quite know when he stopped loving her.

Did he ever?

The folly of youth, carefree and simple, manipulated him.

Has she ever loved him?

He likes to think so.

When he fluffs Bae's hair or tucks the thin, ragged blanket around him at night, it's a vain comfort for Rumplestitlskin to imagine Milah still loves him like she used to.

Then she's sick.

Her face, long browned by the sun, is an unnerving pasty white.

Dark hollows encircle the odd-colored eyes he so often looked into while atop her.

And she bleeds.

He cannot keep enough clean rags for her sopping them through with blood.

Baelfire watches his Papa shuffle to and fro with bloody blankets and pantalets asking each time, "Where is Mother?"

Rumplestitlskin doesn't answer.

"_What is wrong?! Tell me, please!" _

Milah can barely turn her head to see her lame husband, the fever clouds her gaze.

"The Midwife," she whispers in a choked rasp, "get The Midwife."

The old Grandmother hobbles inside their tiny hovel, her gnarled hands cling tight to her little cane.

But even she, in her antiquated years and ruined knees, can walk better than Rumplestiltskin.

"There has been blood Mother," he shakes out in hushed tones, "buckets full I'll warrant."

She doesn't speak, only pushes past him into the small room without windows.

When she emerges, nearly twelve hours later, her apron has bright red stains and perspiration dots her withered brow.

"What has happened?"

He stumbles to her side, but careful so as not to wake Baelfire.

"She has miscarried, Spinner. But from what I can see your wife will have no lingering trouble, there can be more children after she has healed."

He stutters for a moment, trying to comprehend what the old Midwife just told him.

"There are no words..." Rumplestiltskin pushes out, stunned at this profound realization.

She gives his forearm a light, comforting pat, "I'll say goodnight then and leave you to your family."

"Y-Yes, thank you Mother."

She closes the plank door quietly, leaving Rumplestiltskin standing in the middle of the room clutching his staff, his mind racing.

"Miscarriage?" He mumbles to himself, "How could she be...we haven't since I came home from war...there is no way..."

Rumplestiltskin would never ask his wife who's child she lost, nor would he ask Milah where she spent most her nights.

He tried to blind Bae from his mother's flaws and frequent absences.

But try as he might, Rumplestiltskin could not blind himself to them.

_**Cora**_

The gown was a becoming shade of grey with giant puffed sleeves reaching almost to her elbows and a stiff, pointed bodice.

Impossibly tight across the breasts and stomach with an immodestly deep neckline which revealed almost all of Cora's shoulders and pert bosom to the scandalized dinner guests seated about her.

In one gloveless hand she held a beautiful lace fan spangled with possibly _hundreds_ of tiny diamonds.

"A little present from Henry..." She gushed, playing the part of infatuated fiancé perfectly when one old fat dowager begged to hold it, then promptly whispered discreetly to her husband how vulgar Her Ladyship looked tonight.

Yes, Cora was titled now.

The King bestowed the honor upon the future Queen as thanks for upholding honesty and virtue in his kingdom; a perfect, graceful illustration of feminine purity.

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes at the thought of Cora actually being called "_virtuous_" and took another long draught from his flask, letting the heel of his boot tap in time with the orchestra against the mossy rock wall upon which he was currently perched.

He could see the curve of her shoulder blades when her partner turned her away from the window, and the alluring bulge of her breasts when she was guided before.

Shamelessly Cora lifted her full skirt, showing matching little slippers and pretty trim ankles during a happy, country romp.

The Dark One seethed.

"Yes, it is quite pretty isn't it?" She beamed when one handsome court ladies grasped her left hand and marveled at the flawless stone sparkling on the third finger.

"You'll never be one of the club dearie." He said bitterly to himself as he watched her turn the room.

She wanted so badly to be wanted; to be seen as an equal and counted as one within their secret little society.

"You want it too much, you're too hungry for it."

Desperation was in the curve of Cora's smile; the yards of rich satin she was wrapped in showed her sick desire to be admired, and the sickening glances she gave her fiancé from across the table would be used as fuel for the gossips.

"You belong with me, somewhere you don't have to _pretend."_

He knew her, inside and out.

"They'll never understand you, even your future husband looks at you with dull comprehension...you're light is too bright for _them_."

But she only turned those large, beguiling eyes upward, thinking how perfect her life was, happy she had been born beautiful and provocative.

_**Regina**_

Leopold came to her.

Regina, still a virgin after almost two weeks of marriage, was dressed in a pretty silk nightgown with long sheer sleeves leaning comfortably against the tuffed headboard.

She couldn't help but stiffen when her husband awkwardly appeared in their adjoining doorway and bowed to her.

"Good evening Regina."

His voice was kind.

"Good evening Your Majesty." She replied, trying to allow a little warmth into her words.

Regina gave a shy smile then immediately looked down at her knotted hands.

Leopold took her greeting and smile as consent to enter and closed the door behind him.

Cautiously he approached his wife's bedside; the simple fondness he felt for her slowly had began to smolder and turn into arousal.

"Have you come to say goodnight?"

Every night since the newly wedded couple arrived at the Summer Palace Leopold always gave Regina goodnight from the safe shadow of their doorway.

But tonight would be different.

"Partly," he smiled down to her, "You are _so _beautiful Regina."

Honest admiration shone in his warm brown eyes and Regina flushed, unaccustomed to his compliments.

"I've hoped you would find me so."

She couldn't look at him, the lie seemed too intimate, too sensual for her and it frightened her to think Leopold would be able to read it in her eyes.

"Have you? Look at me Regina, please, do you really think of me?"

Leopold's long, soft hand turned her face upward and cupped it gently.

"Why, you're my husband aren't you sire? Naturally all of my thoughts should be of you."

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, "That sounds so practiced my dear, I wager all of your life you've been coached and taught on how to _properly _address your husband."

"How true your words are sire."

"I know, I've been around courtiers and princesses my entire life. I'm well aware of their machinations."

Leopold let his hand drift down to caress a loose curl; his bride's face hardened.

"I don't expect you to be welcoming my dear," he sighed, "how can you be when all you've been told is to _endure_."

He pulled Regina's hair over her shoulder, "Marriage is a sacrament, the marriage bed is sacred place, but it is not meant to be cold and impersonal."

As soon as he said that Regina only heard Cora's voice, hard and tinny...

"_Of course it will _hurt_, but it must be bared. Put your feelings past you. Regina, you are not there for that, you are there to produce an heir and nothing more. You would do very well to remember that."_

Leopold rested his hand lightly on her shoulder, "I want to make you my wife in _every _sense of the word Regina, but only if you are ready for me to."

But how could she let any man but Daniel touch her?

_**Belle**_

"Show me where it hurts then."

Urgently Belle pointed to her left ankle, scrunched her face painfully when Rumplestiltskin's long fingers clamped down and twisted where the pretty white skin had already purpled and swelled.

"It's already bruising, you've more than likely broken it."

Belle let out a pitiful whimper, terrified and angry that something so silly as tripping over the hem of her gown while mopping the stairs had caused such a serious injury.

"What the Devil possessed you to let such a thing happen?"

Rumplestiltskin spoke with great exasperation and gave Belle's injured ankle another quick, firm squeeze.

She screamed and dug the heels of her hands into the marble stairs underneath her, "_Stop!"_

He rolled his eyes, dismissing her pain.

"You've always been clumsy to a fault, gotten what you deserve as far as I'm concerned."

"I tripped, Rumplestiltskin, doing what _you _told me to do!"

Her blue eyes were glossy and the apples of her cheeks blossomed with bright pink frustration.

"If I hadn't been mopping these damned stairs I wouldn't have tripped and fell halfway down them!"

He still held her ankle, crouched on one bended knee, "How dare you show your temper before me."

"_How dare you order me to perform menial, dangerous tasks?!"_

"Well if they are so _dangerous _and _menial _then why do you attempt them?!"

Their eyes locked in an intense glare for several seconds.

"_You select tasks that deliberately put me in danger Rumplestiltskin and you know it."_

Belle's tone was icy and accusing.

"Listen here to me dearie," he spat, "I am your _Master_, I hold your sad, bleak life entirely in my grasp, so if I tell you to leap from the highest window of the tallest bloody tower in this castle," Rumplestiltskin's eyes narrowed as he inched closer towards her in order to emphasize his point, "_you will do it._"

"That's exactly where you're wrong Rumplestiltskin. You don't _own _me, I'm not just something that exists for your amusement or displeasure, and if you think for one moment longer I will stand this _inhumane _treatment you are _dreaming_."

Still holding Belle's ankle, he looked down to the ground thoughtfully.

"You forfeited _all _personal rights when you fulfilled your end of the deal by coming to _serve_ me for all of eternity."

"_Well then_," she clipped with an intimidating glint in her impossibly blue eyes, "_you will find yourself facing eternity with quite a formidable opponent...Master."_

**Milah**

The early months of his wife's pregnancy gave Rumplestiltskin much happiness.

Every little internal movement sent him into new wonderment.

Her slightest whim was his command.

"Whenever a woman is in the family way and has a longing," the Mid-Wife stressed to Rumplestiltskin as she wagged one hideously twisted finger in his face, "Ye had better satisfy it or face the consequences!"

A happy young man, not two months a bridegroom, had everything he could ever dream for laid before his humble feet.

_**Cora**_

Just breathing the same air is enough for Rumplestiltskin.

Feeling the weight of her naked body in his arms as pale, silver moonlight illuminates their chamber makes The Dark One yearn for a time-stopping spell.

How she cups his ugly face and kisses him, just for the sheer joy of it.

She's happy and loving.

She's all that he needs.

"Do you love me dearie?"

Cora turns and smiles that slow, understanding smile that seems to say, "_I forgive your ugliness, your meanness, and I still want you."_

"You're all I need Rumplestiltskin."

_**Regina**_

"When were you going to tell me?"

He isn't angry like she thought he would be.

His voice is even and surprisingly calm.

Regina closed her eyes and leaned against the rough tree for support.

"I hoped to hide it from you I suppose."

The strong, biting bile burned her throat and nostrils.

Rumplestiltskin began to grope inside of his waistcoat, "Not even twelve months a bride..."

With a flourishing hand he retrieved a hankie and thrust it to Regina.

"It is to expected...Here, wipe your mouth."

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"Have you told your husband?"

His tone sounded oddly sympathizing.

Regina only shook her head, crumpling the soiled bit of linen nervously between fair, ring heavy hands.

"Well I believe we are done, present circumstances considered."

He turned swiftly on heel and began walking towards the tree line when Regina squeaked out, "_Shall I be here tomorrow at the usual o'clock?_"

Her Mentor stilled, "Are you dense dearie?"

"My Lord?"

"You heard me Majesty," he turned to face her, "_We are done_."

"_What?_"

Rumplestiltskin didn't answer her dumbstruck question, only turned and started off again, sure that his protégée, eagerness in her step, would follow.

Gathering up the rich velvet of her aubergine riding habit, unsteadily Regina began to chase after her teacher.

"_Please! Please, wait!_"

The Dark One pretended not to hear her desperate calls; he wanted to play this scene perfectly.

"_Rumplestiltskin!"_

The young queen had stopped and dug her heels into the soft, mossy decay of the Forest, her skirt balled so tightly in her fists that her knuckles turned white and that large, throbbing vein between her eyes had risen angrily.

"How dare you carry that tone with me, are you mad?"

He thrust his hands onto his hips and wrinkled his brow.

"_How dare you walk away from your Queen!"_

He giggled, "You're no Queen of mine dearie, goodbye."

"Do you mean to tell me," Regina snapped, "that you are withdrawing your tutorage simply because I've found myself in a family way?"

"A little slow to comprehend, but in a nutshell, yes, I suppose that's what is happening."

She looked stunned.

"But I need you! I need you to teach me! I _need _my revenge!"

He didn't miss a beat.

"Well you should have thought of that before you allowed your husband to fulfill his marital rights! I will go no further with you Regina if you bear a child."

She started towards him with pure rage shining in her brown eyes.

"_You told me to let him! That I must submit because he was my King and husband! I didn't want it, I don't want it!"_

"Well now you've got it and _it's _permanent!"

Rumplestiltskin paused dramatically and brought a long finger to his chin.

"What is it? You're thinking of something, tell me!"

Her lovely lashed eyes searched his face desperately.

"No," he shook his curly headp, "no you _couldn't _do that."

"_Do what?!" _

How terribly she longed to latch herself to his lapels and shake the life out of him!

"I would consider resuming my post as your master and teach you the Dark Arts if you were not...indisposed."

"That's impossible! A baby can't just disappear!"

He waved his long hand and with a puff of crimson smoke, produced a little glass bottle.

"What is that?" Regina clipped, gesturing to the black liquid that the bottle held.

"A remedy if you will, drink it and your baby shall disappear."

Rumplestiltskin grinned broadly, showing all of his broken and rotted teeth, which only served to disturb Regina all the more.

"Why don't you want me to have a baby? I'd be able to enact my revenge swifter with a child of my own. A little Prince to rule by my side once I've gotten rid of Snow White and Leopold."

Her hands automatically went to her stomach, patting it lovingly.

"No," he snarled, "either drink this, or I take my leave dearie and you will never, ever see me again."

"I cannot believe you are putting me to such a decision."

"Look dearie," Rumplestiltskin twirled the bottle between his fingers, "I'm not _putting _you to anything, I don't care what you do, this is _your _life after all, if you want to throw it away be my guest."

Regina stood there, unmoving, as her master tapped his foot impatiently.

"You are willing to throw everything I've worked for, all that we have accomplished away?"

"No," his face stony and impassive, "But you are."

"Please, do not make me do this."

"I'm not _making _you do a thing dearie, this is entirely up to you. I suppose you have forgotten the pain and heartache you endured because of Snow White, shall I refresh your memory?"

"No."

He made a flourishing bow, "Then I'll take my leave."

"Rumplestiltskin-" she grabbed the arm of his sleeve, tears choking her, "_Master_."

He turned, inwardly jubilant as he looked down to the hand knotting his sleeve.

"My dear Regina," he smiled, "My pet, tell me..."

Rumplestiltskin placed the bottle in her hands and closed his own over them comfortingly.

"I cannot forget the task at hand, I was wrong to allow such a thing to divide us. I cannot forget Daniel nor can I forget the pain I have been forced to endure."

"Quite right my pet, but take peace in knowing that I will always be by your side to guide and protect you from all things."

Regina's misty eyes locked with his own, "You have always been there in my darkest moments, I trust no one as I do you Master."

"It truly warms my heart to hear you say that my pet," he took the bottle from her hands and uncorked it, "Now be a good girl for your Master and drink this up, and we will never have this little problem again..."

_**Belle**_

How he loves her.

It's an all consuming emotion, seizing his mind and manipulating it completely.

He has become shamefully neglectful of his work, preferring now to spend his days Belle watching.

"_You've surely bewitched me, dearie..._"

He's leaning against a marble ledge, one of the many ornate balconies of his Dark Castle, watching Belle meander blindly through the hedge labyrinth below.

She's taken wildflowers and woven them into a crown, looping it through her bouncing maple curls.

The ruffled hem of her gown is mud-stained, but to Rumplestiltskin she's never looked more lovely.

Every singing bird, every floating butterfly, every little insignificant form of nature makes her stop in wonderment.

"_That I could take you in my arms this very moment..."_

He would worship her body with kisses and give her pleasure like she had never known.

He could work the greatest of magic upon her body, making her bend and break to his will.

He wanted to devour her; to claim every inch of sweet, pure flesh as his own.

"_Perhaps if I could just touch her once..."_

_**Milah**_

"Where's Mother?"

Baelfire looked up from his steaming porridge, disappointment clear in his warm brown eyes.

"She's visiting an ill friend son," Rumplestiltskin lied, "she'll be back soon."

He ruffled his sons curly mop, "Would you like to help me today until Mum comes home?"

Baelfire grinned, "Yes Papa, are we going to market?"

"Indeed we are my boy, you can help me carry the baskets."

Even though he was basically ostracized from their tiny community, Rumplestiltskin still made good selling his wools and wovens.

The villagers whispered viciously behind his back about his whoring wife and cowardliness during the Ogre Wars, yet they paid the set price for his well spun wares for there was no one in the little hamlet nor the surrounding towns who could spin so fine a loom.

"Spinning is women's work Rumple," Milah would spit, her words slurred from too much ale, "No wonder you're so good at it."

He would always hold his tongue and cow his head, reminding himself over and over that she was Baelfire's mother and deserved respect.

He occasionally heard rumors about her, but he never confronted her with them.

Rumplestiltskin's only worry was that Baelfire would hear from the other children the truth about his mother.

"And then he'll learn the truth about me, that I'm nothing but a coward."

_**Cora **_

"Well," she smiled, gesturing to the freshly painted full length portrait hanging honorably over Henry's fireplace, "What do you think of me?"

Her teacher struck a pensive pose as he studied the beautiful face and body immortalized with oils and grease paints on canvas.

Serenely she stood cradling a bouquet of pale pink roses, her dark hair upswept in messy waves and a sheer cream colored cape thrown over her shoulders.

"You have the look of a goddess my dear, lovelier than the Fae."

"Do you really think so?" She purred into his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulders and wrapped her arms tight around his slim hips.

"Dearie, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

She giggles and lets her hand slide teasingly lower, "Henry and Xavier are touring The Frontlands, they won't return until after a fortnight."

"And why you are telling me this, pray?"

Cora planted a kiss against the rough skin of his neck before whispering, "I want you to take me...in _his _bed."

Rumplestiltskin turned to face her, "I admire the way your mind works my dear," he eyed the massive canopied bed hung in rich velvets and silk, "I can think of nothing I'd rather do than debase you in your future marriage bed."

"We can imagine it's _our _marriage bed."

"Dare to dream, dearie."

He smiled a slow, seductive smile; his eyes changed to a glowing, misty gold.

"Once upon a time you said you would never share me with another man."

Cora's long fingers wound themselves into his unruly curls, her body molded against his.

"Did I? That was just passion talk my dear, I know that no man can give you carnal pleasure as I do therefor I feel no intimidation from our sweet Henry."

Stung by his detached tone Cora pulled away from her gilded lover.

"Well at least Henry can give me the one thing I truly desire, something _you _never can."

Rumplestiltskin, as always, took her bait.

"What can he give you dearie except a well deserved place _behind _his throne and a full belly every year?"

"Henry's not as foolish as you'd think," she spat, "He respects me and my opinions, unlike some people."

The Dealmaker giggled, "Has your passion for me cooled so quickly?!"

"I think it's quite the other way 'round!"

Cora gathered her velvet dressing gown about her and prepared to sail by Rumplestiltskin with lowered lashes when he caught her forearm roughly.

"Marry come up sir, is that how you handle a queen?"

He rolled his glittering eyes and forced a hand between her bodice and chemise, caressing the sensitive skin of her breast.

"You give yourself too many airs dearie."

He caught her face, "Pray let me bring you back amongst us mere mortals."

"I will not stand to be insulted by a lump of foul depravity such as yourself."

Her black eyes sparkled with fresh rage, angered beyond words at the familiar liberties Rumplestiltskin took so freely.

"You will stand it."

_**Regina**_

"_You are not my husband, nor my father!"_

Regina turned and gave her wrist a sharp flick, making the heavy wooden door to Rumplestiltskin's Apothecary slam painfully against the stone wall.

"_I am as good as both!"_

Purple smoke flooded around her ankles and feet, stopping Regina in her tracks.

Her teacher seldom raised his voice and Regina was suddenly very alarmed.

Her back still faced him, but her eyes were wide with fright and she inexplicably had turned cold.

The high heels of his boots clicked and clacked against the smooth stone floor as Rumplestiltskin approached his trapped charge.

"_After all I have done for you! How dare you come here and demand anything of me?!"_

"How dare you treat me like a disobedient child simply because I let my feelings be known!"

The Dark One stopped, "You are a _child_ Regina! A spoiled, vain girl masquerading as a mature woman!"

"The only time I'm _spoiled,_ according to you, is when I do not bend to your will."

She folded her arms tight across her chest and scowled, ready for his counter.

"My will, pet, is the only thing that matters here!"

"Oh I know that quite well! _Your _interests and goals are the only ones that count! Favors upon favors you've asked of me, and what have I gotten?!"

They were both quite silent, feeling the tension thick in the air around them.

But finally he spoke.

"My dearest child," he sighed doggedly, "I have spent these last years helping you, teaching you, loving you like you were my own and I do not mean to see you manipulated and thwarted by those who you think you can place your trust in."

His face changed as he spoke, the imp looked tired and haggard, his hands gripped Regina's silk covered shoulders entreatingly.

"I've always done the very best by you my pet, I've stayed by your side and I shall continue to guide you because I love you as much as if I sired you myself."

_**Belle**_

"Yes?"

She's standing before her mirror, the only one he would allow, linen underskirts stretched wide by panniers and a simple white busk.

Startled to see him in the mirror behind her, leering from the open doorway, she turned and raised a protective hand to her breast.

Rumplestiltskin folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorway.

Brilliant sunlight streamed in from the bare windows, giving Belle an angelic illumination.

They continued to hold each other's gaze silently.

Her maple tresses hung loose around her shoulders and face, shimmering in the sun.

She was a nymph from the old myth, caught bathing by a mortal; a frightened Muse bared to unworthy eyes.

She took a shaky step forward, her widened skirts swayed provocatively, "Rumplestiltskin..."

"Finish your dressing my dear." he interrupted.

His tone was instructive, ordering.

Belle looked to the richly woven rug beneath her then clutched at the stiff bodice covering her stomach.

"But I..." She met his glowing gaze with bewildered blue eyes.

He only tilted his curly head, his face staid.

His beautiful maid turned and retrieved a pair of stockings and their matching garters.

Slowly she sunk herself onto a small gilded footstool, pulling her petticoats up over her knees.

She dressed as if her Masted wasn't only a few feet away, making sure her nails had not snagged the silk and securing the buckles on each garter.

He memorized each inch of perfect skin and felt his mouth water as he imagined how soft the flesh of Belle's inner thigh would feel against his rough fingertips.

Too soon Belle was up, searching for any movement or pause from the corner of her eye as she groped for her dress.

Rumplestiltskin watched her heft the heavy brocade gown; how he wished he could tear it from her body.

Expertly Belle stepped into her day dress and pulled it over her panniers and arms.

"Help with your buttons?"

Before the beauty could answer one long arm had wound its way about her waist securely and long nails tickled against her stays.

"You see?"

Her own flawless face was reflected before her, the Deal Maker's hands fast against the sky blue fabric of a daringly low bodice that she is suddenly keenly aware of.

He doesn't move his hands, his body is a safe distance from her own, yet Belle feels as if they are occupying the same form.

"Where did you come from?" He whispered, "I couldn't have dreamt you better."

"Why are you in my room?"

Her voice shakes because she's confused.

There is so much light, his skin glitters and Belle feels herself start to pull away from him.

"Why did you ask for me? Why make me your price?"

Rumplestiltskin sees inside of her, he feels the heat in her blood, she craves depravity.

"I can make you."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Milah**_

A loveless marriage can be a bleak thing.

"Milah," he said timidly one day, "Do you think, I mean, would you want to try and have another child? A playmate, perhaps, for Baelfire so he won't be alone."

Rumplestiltskin turned from the thatched doorway where he had been watching his son play by himself with a simply carved wooden sword.

"Are you serious?" Milah said hatefully between sips of steaming tea.

He shifted against his walking stick, "Yes, I suppose I am. I do love you Milah and I want to beget more children of you."

She rolled her reddened eyes, "I could think of nothing worst than letting you rutt me like a dog."

He looked stricken.

Hurt to the core by her coarse words.

"Milah, please do not say such things."

His large brown eyes were misty and quickly blinked away the salty tears.

"Leave me be, what in the world makes you think I want anymore screaming brats?"

"Baelfire is so alone, it might would do him well to have someone other than me."

Rumplestiltskin cowed to her, not daring to raise his voice to his wife.

"Well maybe the other children would play with him if his father wasn't the village coward." She said smoothly.

_**Cora**_

"There are pieces of yourself so dark, you can't even show them to me."

"Do not _presume _to know me sir, I am no longer a helpless peasant!"

Rumplestiltskin calmly folded his hands over one knee and tilted his head quizzically.

"You're quite right dearie, you aren't helpless...not anymore."

Cora looked haughtily down at her lover seated in a delicate gilt chair, too delicate for one as foul as he.

"_I'm powerful_," she hissed through gritted teeth, "_I am not 'nothing' anymore._"

Her chest rose and fell laboriously; it heaved with anger and excitement in her newfound power.

"Then I will take my leave of you Madam."

But it's no use.

She's at his feet, a pooling mass of rich fabric and crocodile tears.

"_But I love you._"

Her hands reach and find him, her lips claim his in a desperate kiss that cries out for her Master not to go.

"_I couldn't bear it if you left me._"

The Dark Wizard coddles Cora to his chest like something precious.

"These games we play my love," Rumplestiltskin whispers into her hair, "These awful, warped games..."

_**Regina**_

The sweet, love-sick girl Rumplestiltskin once knew has completely transformed into a hard, frigid shrew who cannot genuinely gain the respect of her people therefore she must prey upon their pathetic fear in order to rule them somewhat sufficiently.

And she even presides over her Kingdom sloppily.

Regina's heart isn't in it.

"Why should I care about them? It's their own fault they're starving, the lazy wretches."

One black velvet clad arm extends, directing the kettle with magic to pour fresh tea into her empty cup.

"My darling," Rumplestiltskin laughs, "You are the worst sovereign I've ever seen! And mind you I've seen plenty!"

A let out a peal of mad laughter and drummed his nails together menacingly.

Regina pretends not to hear which, in turn, infuriates him.

"Not in the mood for jollies today, are we my pet?"

The Evil Queen looked over her shoulder, "Why are you even here? Aren't there children somewhere for you to skin or unicorns to slaughter?"

"Those things can wait, I want to spend the afternoon with my _favorite _pupil."

"You sicken me."

Her tone is snarky; short in temper.

"I hold you so near to my heart and this is how you speak to me."

"You have no heart sir."

Her painted lips pucker as she cools her tea with a little push of breath.

"Faith child, I have known feelings far deeper and more violent than you could ever dare dream."

_**Belle**_

"Is it always so cold here?"

The Maid rubbed her hands together quickly, hoping the friction would create a little warmth.

"I find it quite comfortable, I don't even think a fire is required on a day find as this one."

Rumplestiltskin picked up the delicate tea cup and saucer before him and sipped as he ignored the obviously frozen Belle.

"Well I'm quite chilled," she chattered as she rubbed her bare arms, "do you have a fur I can wear?"

Her face was white as the falling snow collecting itself on the diamond panes outside of the massive castle windows.

"Once you get to moving around you'll warm up dearie!"

He smiled at Belle over the rim of his cup.

"I do think the rugs need a good beating today, they're terribly filthy."

Daintily, he sat the pretty china cup down on the table top and crossed one leg over the other.

Sharply she turned and fixed him with a puzzled look.

"Beat the rugs? But it's _snowing_!"

The imp rolled his eyes dismissively, "_Barely_."

It was, in fact, a blizzard berating the old rock walls of the Dark Castle.

"The snow is falling so violently I cannot see anything but white!"

Belle pointed to the naked window whose curtains had been drawn early that morning by Rumplestiltskin in a mischievous, cruel effort to make the castle even more frigid.

"You are the laziest." He admonished.

"Well," she replied evenly despite the chattering of her pretty teeth, "if I'm lazy then you're idiotic. I will not beat these rugs during a snow, no matter what you order."

"Oh really?" He smirked.

"Yes really! And what's more _I _am going to start a fire!"

Rumplestiltskin laughed, amused that such an insignificant girl dared to take charge of him.

"Contradict me again if you wish dearie." He spoke cheerily to Belle, the mirth in his tone confused and alarmed her.

"I hope a few hours out of doors in this most lovely weather will help you remember to keep a civil tongue."

_**Milah**_

Even in his darkest hours Rumplestiltskin still found hope.

His dear son would reach upwards and catch his father's withered hand in his own tiny one and all would be right within the world.

He found solace in the love of his child, a love so profound and satisfying that it nearly frightened him.

For someone like Rumplestiltskin who had never before known true love, blind love, it took him wholly and nurtured the bruised part of him that ached.

The love he longed to give his wife festered inside of him though.

Milah was his partner in life and she cared naught for the task.

"Why does he cry so?!" She screamed one morning, clutching her thundering head.

Rumplestiltskin tried to shush their toddling son from his temper fit, but Baelfire simply wanted to wail and weep.

"He is just dissatisfied." The Spinner answered meekly.

Milah laughed and pulled an ivory comb through her beautiful hair, "That makes two of us, what should you do Husband if I cried thus?"

"I should comfort you dearest."

His hand reached out to stroke the crown of her dark head and she wrenched violently away.

"I don't need your comfort." She hissed.

Poor Rumplestlitskin only nodded, his son pacified in his arms, and turned away.

_**Cora**_

"No rest for the wicked I see."

Cora crawled from behind a large shrubbery row with Rumplestiltskin in tow.

"How can I rest dearie when you look so...ravishing."

She straightened her ball gown and plucked errant leaves and twigs from her coiffure.

"You would debauche me on the dirt like a common whore?"

She smiled, but her words were cold.

Ever the gallant, her lover bowed deeply and captured Cora's hand in a kiss.

"I could think of no bed more appropriate," he snickered as she flung her hand away.

"My dearest love."

_**Regina**_

Every time the Maid opened the small mirror to fluff her hair or bite her lips in an effort to redden them, Regina knew.

The girls face, her large blue eyes, had been burned into the Evil Queen's psyche.

But it wasn't jealousy, it was the lust for power, of knowing a devastating secret and delighting in it.

It didn't take much to deduce that the creature would fall in love with the pretty wench; he was but a man, no matter what he wanted to pretend.

Regina scanned the reflection before her, noting the change from rock walls and straw to a glimpse tufted headboard and heavy damasked bed curtains.

She smiled to herself, those full red lips stretched predatorily across sharp, shining teeth.

"The old fool," she mused.

Then the girl moved her mirror so as to check the bodice of her gown.

_Her new, expensive gown..._

Regina knew the fabric was rich, the cut exquisite and deft.

"Damn me, he's gone soft..."

The Maiden gave her face one last look over and snapped the little glass closed, thus closing the unintentional portal to Regina.

Folding her arms across herself, the Queen rolled her eyes and brought a long nail up to tap against her front teeth thoughtfully.

She kicked the weighted skirt of her gown out and began to pace back and forth in front of her magic mirror.

"He has made a most fatal error, he who knows all..."

_**Belle**_

"I have brought you something."

Rumplestiltskin crossed the hall in quick purposeful strides, a mud-stained cloth sack in one hand and his face obscured by the low hanging hood of his green velvet cloak.

Belle turned with a start and raised her eyebrow suspiciously.

"The last time you said that to me my "surprise" was to clean a certain pair of boots that were caked in fresh manure."

The Deal Maker halted and thrust one hand to his hip, angrily shaking the bag with his other.

"Will you ever show gratitude to your Master?!"

"When he gives me something to be grateful for."

She turned dismissively and continued her window washing.

Rumplestiltskin flung back his hood and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well then I suppose I should just throw all of these novels into the fire, better yet," he dropped the sack, "I'll pull out each page and burn them individually."

Belle dropped her rag and rushed to the bag.

She untied the rope urgently, ignoring her Master totally as she fished out a leather bound book a cradled it lovingly to her breast.

"You brought me books?"

She looked up at him, amazed by his kindness.

Rumplestiltskin unclasped his musty cape and threw it carelessly across the long wooden table.

"You could say I've given you kindling, since you want to be so saucy with me."

He rested his hand lazily on his sword hilt, his posture lax and casual.

"Oh, please, no," she rose and looked him in the eyes pitifully, "please don't burn them, I'm sorry for taking so harsh a course with you, I just thought-"

He cut her off.

"You just thought I am a nasty beast who relishes in cruelty."

"No, you're quite capable of goodness and mercy." She brazenly replied.

"Spoken like a truly blind optimist!"

He giggled and bent to pick up her books.

"Wherever did you get them?"

His leather covered back faced Belle as he unpacked the tomes and stacked them on the table top.

"In a village, an old man was peddling them among other things."

Belle opened the book she had been cradling and read the title.

"Who is "Emily Bronte?" I've never heard of her writing before."

She began to flip through the pages, scanning paragraphs and chapters eagerly.

"Some of the greatest authors are unknown or obscure." Rumplestiltskin absently replied as he retrieved the final book.

"Belle undo this damned scabbard for me will you?"

He turned his body towards her with his arms stretched wide, his pelvis exposed.

"Of course."

She laid the novel down and quickly unbuckled her Master's sword belt.

"Take the cloak to the scullery and mind the ermine trim," he shrugged off his doublet and held it out to her, "this as well."

He tossed the jacket across her waiting arms, "Don't be all day about the wash Belle, I would ask you to read a few pages aloud when your work is done."

If her eyes lit up, he didn't notice it, nor did he see the happy blush that crept across her cheeks.

But Belle was grateful for his kindness.

"Master?"

Rumplestiltskin turned back to face her.

"What?" He snapped.

Carefully, but not timidly, his housekeeper stood on her toes and placed her lovely, warm lips upon his glittering cheek.

"_Thank you._"


	7. Chapter 7

**Milah**

"You shouldn't be made to carry so heavy a burden."

Those two extraordinary eyes found his, alert and sparkling.

"And who's going to bear it for me?"

She hefted the wash basket higher on her hip and eyed Rumplestiltskin expectantly.

The young man looked to his feet making imprints in the red dust of the lane.

After a few awkwardly silent seconds, he stopped.

"If you would permit me, I should like to carry it for you."

Passing girls and women of the village giggle and gave admonishing glares to the pretty lass and humble spinner.

Rumplestiltskin didn't mind though, he only held out his arms for the basket.

Milah cocked her head, the thick, dark waves fell over her shoulder gracefully, and smiled.

"Well, here you are then," she passed the basket over into his hands, "you can sit and talk with me while I do my washing if you like."

"I don't think it would be proper, the other women might take offense."

She rolled those aquamarine eyes and raked a calloused, reddened hand through her hair.

"To the Devil with those old bawds," Milah cursed, laughing a little at Rumplestiltskin when his eyes grew wide with shock.

"I'm no coward Rumplestiltskin and if you're ashamed of being seen with a girl so common born as myself then you can give me back my washing and be on your way."

"Oh no," he babbled apologetically, "I'm not ashamed nor am I a coward, I don't mind them talking if you don't."

Milah grinned, satisfied that her spell had been cast, and began walking towards the well with Rumplestiltskin fast in tow.

* * *

**Cora**

"You make me sick."

King Xavier said calmly, never looking up from the piles of state papers and pending treaties that littered his desk.

His son and daughter-in-law had just returned from their Honeymoon tour and the King was noticeably absent from the royal receiving party.

That infuriated Cora.

So there she stood, muffed in rich furs and beautifully gowned, glaring at the King: her father.

But, decorum overpowered the scene and Cora dropped into a graceful curtsy, spreading her skirts wide and bending her neck respectfully.

"As pleasant and complimentary as the first time we met, Majesty."

Her hard sarcasm was noted by the King with a frown.

"Why are you here?"

She smiled.

"Casting me off so quickly? There was a time when you never wanted me to leave..."

"You have no business remembering that."

Her coyness shifted abruptly to anger at his admonishment.

"You don't tell me what not to remember, I'm no longer a dirty mill slut carrying a sack of flour!"

Cora slapped his desk hard in an effort to control herself and the magic that was quivering eagerly in her fingertips.

Xavier stood before he spoke, the lines in his face shadowed and pronounced.

"Are you still keeping illicit company with that demonic Creature my daughter?"

Her bowed crimson mouth pouted out a tight, "No."

They both knew she was lying blatantly, she would never give up Rumplestiltskin.

He was thing they never spoke of outright; he was the wall between Cora and absolute power.

"Very good, at least you done one thing I asked of you."

"What do you want from me?!"

Cora slammed both hands, palms down, onto the desk; her eyes locked hatefully with Xavier's.

"I want you to obey!" He bellowed back at her, "I want you to stop fighting me, testing me, and pushing my temper to its limit!"

Cora recovered herself and stepped back from the King's desk awkwardly.

Her eyes searched his aged, handsome, biased face, darting from the crown settled atop his thick dark hair, to the many gleaming medals that were pinned to his breast.

"You want me to kneel," she hissed, "You want my knees to crack and bruise from kneeling to those who I was born inferior, yet now eclipse. You want me to apologize for becoming one of them. You never will forget where I came from will you? No matter how much gold I spin or grandsons I beget for you, I shall always have to bend until you have passed."

* * *

**Regina**

So many times Regina had sat in her carriage, invisible due to magic, and watched the serving wench carrying her basket to the distant village to fetch straw.

He would dispatch her before dawn sometimes, and the poor bedraggled thing wouldn't return until long after dark.

Regina knew from the mirror, the brief moments of pinching redness into her pale cheeks and biting chapped lips so as to appear healthy and appealing always heralded a visit to the village.

And he always sent her on the most miserable of days.

Rain storms, sweltering heat, and knee deep snows greeted her when she passed through the gates of his battlements.

He manipulated the elements just to discomfort the maid.

Her state of dress was always deplorable, her pretty hair was fuzzy and tangled.

"Poor child." Regina sighed to herself.

She has been caught by him; ensnared in his trap.

He will throw her away when he's satisfied himself with her, when she's no more good to him or anyone.

She'll be hardened and cold, she won't be able to trust.

He will leave the servant girl as had he left all of them...

* * *

**Belle**

After she had read the final word on the final page, Belle solemnly closed the book and tried to will the hot, salty tears flooding her eyes back to their internal spring.

The ending had been poignant, yet devastatingly sad.

Rumplestiltskin sat unmoved, his legs splayed out crookedly before him and his shimmering green eyes locked on the leaping fire as if entranced.

For a few moments they sat in silence, then suddenly he spoke, clear and sharp.

"And what do you make of Faustus, Belle? What can you think of a man who would sell his own soul for vainglory and wickedness?"

"I pity him truly," one trembling hand caressed the cover of the book as she spoke, "Faust did not strike the bargain with ill intention, evil was not his aim, he began with the purest and most noble of intentions."

"Yes!"

Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and pointed at Belle, his brow hatefully wrinkled.

"That is how it always opens," one long hand wound into his waves where it sunk and tangled itself, "even the most deplorable of actions seem to hold no consequence...until one day they do, and then the price is far too great..."

A gaunt, haunted shadow crossed his face, the pain evident.

A hot stab of longing pierced Belle's heart.

To chase that pain away, how badly she wanted to crack that hard veneer of the monster so as to catch a glimpse of the man who suffocated beneath...

But from the faraway gaze in his eyes and slumped, broken position of his body, Rumplestiltskin's ghosts were his own tonight.

"I-I do believe I'm for my bed."

Belle rose and placed the book on the mantle, making mental note to find some obscure home for it in back of the bookcase.

Her gowned figure and delicate profile became highlighted in the licking flames.

She had bound her hair in one long peasant braid, a thousand different shades of red and brown danced and shone.

Rumplestiltskin saw her before the spinning wheel; he saw her with the jewel box he left secretly...

She was Marguerite.

He would choke her with diamonds and emeralds then lay her beautiful body onto the raw straw beside the wheel.

As Belle passed him by, Rumplestiltskin caught fast her wrist.

Tightly he pressed blackened nails into the delicate skin that gave protection to those precious, thundering veins.

"Verweile doch du bist so schon Marguerite."

* * *

**Milah**

Feelings Rumplestiltskin had never known existed within his body suddenly and passionately emerged.

A fever had settled.

Her body, her mind, it all was so...arousing.

He wanted to give Milah pleasure; he wanted to worship her with his body.

Her full mouth, warm against his own and the feel of her in his arms was all he could think of.

Gods, how he ached for her.

Then just kissing wasn't enough, nor just holding her loosely.

He wanted to make her his own and no one else's.

* * *

**Cora**

"How happily my quill glides across this rough page, I cannot tell you dearie."

The graceful, familiar pen made Cora's stomach drop and a cool perspiration bloom across the bridge of her powdered nose.

"A treasure most rare, magic the likes of which I've never seen..."

Warm blush crept across her bosom, the old surge of jealousy recalled itself to Cora.

"She reminds me of you, my dear. Her eagerness to seek retribution upon those who abandoned her as a wee babe in a basket..."

The word abandoned had been underlined three times with violent black lines.

It couldn't be.

"She's crude, but most promising. She warmed the cockles of my withered old heart when I watched spun straw into gold, without ever being instructed how..."

No.

"...and she told me the most wretched thing, she said she was tired of bending and kneeling to others deemed by nature superior to her. The child's words put me in mind of yours once upon a time my dear..."

* * *

**Regina**

How violently her hands trembled after pushing her mother through the looking glass.

Tremors that seemed to quake outward from her soul.

Her mind was an addled, swirling mess.

"I have killed my mother...I have killed my mother..."

Then there was thick purple smoke snaking it's way around her ankles, spreading strange perfume.

Two arms appeared and wrapped themselves comfortingly around Regina's waist.

A sharp, pointed chin rested upon her bare shoulder.

"It is well, just as well..."

That awful voice.

His rank breath made her nose burn.

Regina's body swayed unsteadily, the magical fumes nauseated her.

A great pounding started somewhere deep inside of her brain, her body felt so heavy.

Then, nothing but darkness.

* * *

**Belle**

The hard tapping of a late night rainstorm roused Belle easily from her sleep.

She rolled over and flung back the cool sheets, groaning slightly from stiffness.

Her hair settled itself around her shoulders in fuzzy ringlets; a loud bellow of thunder made the window panes quake in their frames.

Belle drew back a curtain and saw the rain running down in pretty rivulets.

How she loved summer rain.

She stood watching it, entranced by nature and noise, when suddenly she grabbed a velvet cloak, threw it haphazardly across her shoulders, and made her way quickly down the staircase toward the green castle gardens.

As soon as Belle's bared feet met with cool, wet grass she beamed.

She ran gaily from the atrium to the high hedge labyrinth, letting her cloak fall forgotten to the ground when it became sodden and mud splattered.

The earthy smelling rain slapped against her face and drenched her night shift through, but she paid it no heed.

When she slipped on the grass and fell to her back, Belle only laughed and rolled, soaking herself completely.

She had lost herself and did not see Rumplestiltskin stalking angrily toward her, blouse open and billowing about him and the forgotten cloak knotted in his hand.

"What are you doing out of doors during a maelstrom such as this?!"

"Master!"

Belle leapt up, terrified beyond reason to be caught off guard before him of all people.

"Have you lost what remains of your mind foolish girl?!"

Rumplestiltskin bore his teeth in an awful snarl, his wet hair laid slick against his face with his chest and stomach fully exposed.

"I am sorry, I love the rain you see, I meant no harm, I would never try and run."

She was earnest, but imploring.

Belle did not wish to feel the weight of his unfair wrath over something this trivial.

"I-I couldn't sleep, I wanted but to feel the rain against my skin."

She babbled, trying to soothe his anger and make him understand it was an innocent gesture.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes dropped from her beseeching face, to her body in the now transparent nightgown.

"Here!"

He thrust the cape at her and she grabbed it, shamefully yanking it around her nearly naked breasts.

"How dare you leave without my permission! How dare you cause me such distress!"

Rumplestiltskin pushed the wet hair back from his brow and turned on the heels of his knee high boots, throwing hateful instructions over his shoulder to Belle.

"Come along girl! Haven't you sense enough to get from the rain?!"

She had been standing in sort of a daze, half frightened and half shocked, but his harsh words brought her back.

"Do not order me about like some sort of pack mule! You carry on as though I were committing some sort of horrible crime!"

"You were," he snapped with a quick turn, "you made an action without my consent, here that is as good as a crime!"

Belle frowned, "I shan't move by the command of a fool such as yourself."

In two moves he had her arms pinned behind her back, the cape she had been wearing fell to the ground with a thud.

"You agreed to forever with me dearie, forever on my terms!"

Belle squirmed in his grasp, but he only held her tighter.

"Turn me loose please," she looked him the eyes, "you frighten me."

"Don't act as though you've never been held steadfastly by a man, how many times did your betrothed embrace you thus?"

They struggled against one another then, until the slimy grass caused them both to lose their footing.

Belle attempted to scramble away, but Rumplestiltskin caught her by the hips and pulled her down hard, pinning her arms by either side of her tangled head.

"What do you want from me?" She asked in a scared, defeated voice.

Rumplestiltskin looked into those impossibly blue eyes and saw the reflection of a monster.

Instantly he recoiled, aware and ashamed of himself.

He turned his mud-stained back to where she still lay on the ground and thrust his hands to his hips.

He kicked a wad of mud and grass with the pointed toe of his boot, then spoke with a dull, hollow tone:

"Go to your chambers and do not leave without my permission again or the repercussions shall be great indeed."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Milah**_

She will never have to know the pain of walking home that evening.

How awful the trek to their hovel knowing that he must tell their son his mother would not ever be coming back.

Can he look into those young eyes and tell Baelfire that his mother chose another man over him?

A filthy pirate who dips his wick into anything that moves.

The lowest of men, raping and pillaging through every port in The Ten Kingdoms.

Her own wantoness.

She couldn't fight the disgusting urges of her body for her own child?

Now she's left their son without his mother.

Left as Rumplestiltskin was.

He should've killed her in the bar.

He would've smiled as the Pirate held her lifeless body, shock and awe in his prettily lashed eyes.

He'll kill her indeed.

She is as good as dead anyhow if she lives with that diseased wretch of a man, and he can spare Baelfire.

He'll say she died by accident, she didn't hurt or suffer.

After all, the boy did love his mother.

He's doing Milah a great service, making her selfish abandonment into a beautiful tragedy.

He can just imagine Milah at this moment hiking up her skirt, that rogue Jones slipping between her lean thighs and rutting her like the whore she really is.

He'll pass her around to his shipmates, then leave her destitute and shamed in some far away kingdom.

Maybe Milah will die then, withered and regretful in her decision.

"Let it haunt her until her dying day."

The little shack has a comforting glow in the one thatched window, a fire he kept low for Bae lest he become frightened of the night.

Rumplestiltskin's leg screamed from the time spent upon it, his shoes were soaked through and muddy.

It wasn't fair.

Milah shucked her responsibilities like an old cape.

Here he is, left with a toddling son and a ruined reputation.

"Mother's in a better place son," Rumplestiltskin reassures his dearest boy through his sobs and screams.

"She loved you more than anything in this world Bae, she truly did."

_**Cora**_

It was her beauty, her wit, her flagrant desirability that drew men into her like a son to his mother's bosom.

Her parties and morals were notorious.

Her past sketchy and controversial.

She was red.

Her name begot images of rich fabrics and priceless jewels.

Pleasure was her credo; she lived it to excess.

She wanted too much of everything.

That included Rumplestiltskin...

"My love," his voice hot and low behind her ear, "is this how you like it?"

Cora whimpers, her face twisted.

"Tell me," he bites her neck, "no one else knows but me, no one else can but me."

These moments are all that connects them now really.

Their mutual heat; their ability to carnally please one another.

Politics have no leeway here in the bedroom.

Kings and Princes hold no court.

There is nothing but lust; mutual pleasure.

They masquerade it as love.

No one else wants him except her.

She who is wanted by everyone.

**_Regina_**

She cannot pinpoint the exact moment her humanity was lost.

Did it happen all at once, or slowly?

Like a sickness growing within her.

Like a possession or sorts.

How she longed to be free of it!

She wanted to be a girl again, uncorrupted by the darkest of magic and thoughts.

She is cursed.

Every thought, every incantation removes a little more of her.

Her clothing itches her, her skin feels too tight.

Her hands begin to numb.

Murder is inconsequential to her, just a small thing in this world of thrones and hearts and mirrors.

How can she reverse this?

She cannot bear to look upon herself in the glass.

Loathed by her populace, she has no where to turn.

In her grasp everything turns to ash.

She is an evil, gnarled, witch of a woman.

She is the monster lying in wait beneath every peasant child's bed.

She is as feared as The Dark One now and that gives her little pride.

There is no solace; no where is she safe from herself.

She only wanted to marry Daniel and ride her horse.

She only wanted her mother to love her for herself.

She only wanted Rumplestiltskin's guidance through the heartbreak of murder.

She only wanted to be Regina, never The Evil Queen.

**_Belle_**

"Beautiful Belle...pretty..."

"Goodness Master," her hands brush the wild hair from his face, "I think it's passed your bedtime."

"Pretty..."

His fingers grab at her loose hair; the flames make it shine like new copper.

"Far from it My Lord." She smiles as she gently swats his hand away.

He attempts to roll his eyes.

"You do yourself grievous disservice."

"As do you, you've been in your cups this night."

She places her hands on her lovely waist, one eyebrow raised accusingly.

"And what of it? All gentlemen drink m'dear."

His head lolls back against the chair.

Belle sees the empty bottle and glass on the floor.

"Just one bottle then?"

"Add three more to that one dearie, as well as a few glasses of wine from my cellar."

Rumplestiltskin looked at her, his eyes glazed.

"Wine as red as your precious, precious blood."

She pays him no mind.

"You should get to bed, you'll feel this in the morning."

"You're the only thing I long to feel."

He reaches out and catches her full skirt, tugging her into his lap.

"Master-"

Her hands push at his chest, he buries his face into her neck.

"Don't get up yet, not yet...don't get up.."

She doesn't.

He smells of strong spirits and smoke.

His blouse is undone nearly to his navel.

His golden, scaly chest unveiled.

Belle feels the heat of his body upon her own.

"You're a welcomed weight," he whispers, "After all, I'm just a randy old demon who wants to feel a beautiful girl again."

She's tense, unsure of him in this state.

"How my hands itch to uncover what's beneath your frock, your corset, your petticoat..."

She clenches her thighs tight together.

Drunken men have a difficult time comprehending the word "No" at times.

A lump of fear welled in her throat.

"I won't do it though Belle," he inhales deeply at her shoulder, "I know you don't want me."

She feels sad at that.

"I-I've never been touched by a man, exactly."

An effort to comfort him.

Smooth over that ever so fragile ego.

"What? No midnight trysts in the gardens with your True Love? No stolen kisses, no desperate, pawing hands..."

He tightened his grip about her waist, his lips grazed her collarbone.

Belle fisted his shirt in her small hands, trying not to let him think she was enjoying this.

"Do you actually mean to tell me he never wandered beneath your skirts? I envy his restraint."

Rumplestiltskin teased her innocence, he knew full well she was as white as snow.

"Please don't treat me as a whore Rumplestiltskin, I know not of such bawdy talk!"

Her words were a stinging hiss.

Her hands left his shirt.

"Ive forgotten myself, pray blame my state dear girl," he rested his forehead on her shoulder like a scowled pup, "do not hold such things against me."

Belle sighed, it felt good to be held by a man...by anyone.

And his scent was...intoxicating.

"You must promise to mind your tongue from here on Master."

Rumplestiltskin placed a light kiss to the fabric covering her shoulder.

"You are nothing more than a mind reader m'dear."

She did not catch his cheek.

They sat in quiet a few moments before Belle found herself fingering the ruffles across his breast.

He was content with her smell in his nose, her lush rump atop his lap, and the pleasing view down her bodice.

"Have you taken many women to your bed Master?"

The question was so forward, so Belle.

Rumplestiltskin giggled, "Didn't you just chastise me against common talk?"

"It's not common talk! It's a legitimate question! I told you of my...inexperience in love."

She pushed against him, shifting herself and causing him to groan.

"Why do you care? I ought to dump you out and let you crack that inquisitive head of yours."

She gave him a smug look, "Sounds like guilty talk, there must've been quite a few for you to turn so sour."

Rumplestiltskin slapped her thigh, "You've too beguiling a mouth to be using it so disgracefully!"

Belle erupted something between a scream and laugh.

Her arms looped around her Master's neck and her face burrowed into his shoulder.

"Your cruelty towards me is unbearable!"

He took the opportunity to snake his hands under her skirts, stopping at her hips.

"No dearie, you're the cruel one, teasing an old dragon with your...treasures."

Belle felt comfortable in his grasp, even a little wanton.

There was a dull throb between her thighs and a dryness in her throat.

Her mind whizzed.

How she longed to kiss him, feel his warm mouth against her neck again.

Those thoughts were unladylike she knew, yet there was something about it all that felt so good.

Too soon she's pulling away, frightened by the heat and lightheaded fog arousal brings to the inexperienced.

It is another shaking step into the unknown thing between them.

**_Milah_**

Her heart felt so good in his hand.

Rumplestiltskin finds comfort in that after the fiasco.

Crushing Milah's heart made everything feel alright again.

And when he severed the Pirate's hand...elation is not the word.

More along the lines of a blessed rapture.

Happiness he could have never dreamed overtook him in that joyous moment the deck became crimson.

But they tricked him.

No one tricks the Dark One and lives to tell the tale.

This needs to become a new chapter in his lore; weakness in this new skin cannot stand.

No one from now on can renege on his deals...for it will mean certain death.

**_Cora_**

Solely he destroyed the oppression of her girlhood days.

He brought forth the old ache from those young burgeoning years when all at once the veil was pulled back and men were suddenly...men.

Every daydream, every fantasy, every frustrated promise she made to herself from her filthy straw ticked mattress was him.

From the first bright blossom of red that stained her petticoat, she knew he would be there somewhere in the darkness waiting for her.

And he was.

He appeared in full form, arms outstretched and mouth dripping honey, just as she had dreamt him.

The shapeless being she looked for behind every tree, expected in every well-to-do Baker's son who winked at her or slid a sugar cookie into her callused hand, had been finally realized in flesh.

If she possessed any virginity, it would have been his within the instant.

There would never be any Knight with armor shining, no honest love, nothing pure.

He made that somehow alright.

She had climbed so high and far out of the tarpits to get to him.

He named the price and she paid it readily.

She loved him when he was nothing but a phantom that freed her from the weight of her sex and incessant grinding of the millstone.

He is the reason for her absolute beauty; he is the steel between her bare breasts and the red silk of her gown.

She is everything he would covet.

She stinks of the mill; of poverty and despair.

But that, of course, can be washed away.

It will all be washed away.

**_Regina_**

She should have known it.

Her mother and...him.

A memory recalls itself to her, a thundering night from so many years ago.

She could not have been more than four or five, still in the nursery.

How cold the stone floor against her feet, how long the journey to her mother's chambers.

No matter how much distance Cora placed between herself and Regina, somehow that only elevated her daughters desire to be with her.

Cora will send her back to the nursery with no comforting words, no kisses, not even a candle to light her way.

Yet Regina still loves her mother fiercely.

She clings to her no matter how hard Cora pushes her away.

That was when Regina saw him.

But she didn't know it was him.

A man, lithe and adroit, stood with his back towards the door.

His hair was wild like an unpruned bush and he wore slick looking hides.

Cora appeared to listen to him with a stony, unpleasant expression.

Regina knew never to interrupt her mother's meetings.

She was gone before Cora could see her and the entire thing was forgotten.

Until decades later when Regina was a woman and the little man with wild hair wearing hides came into her chambers during a midsummer storm.

Then she knew the reason her mother had looked so hard and old that night as he talked.

**_Belle_**

"Do be careful dearie, your slipper has unlaced itself."

No sooner had Rumplestiltskin warned Belle of her step she wound up in a pile upon the rug, less than five inches from the toe of his boot.

Her light sprinkle of a laugh told him she wasn't hurt in anyway, just somewhat clumsy.

She saw him upside down as she lay upon her back.

Her creamy breasts jumped with her laughter, she folded her hands across her stomach and smiled at her Master.

"Aren't you going to help me up? It would be the chivalrous thing to do."

Rumplestiltskin grinned down at the pretty lump at his feet.

"You're a clumsy shrew, heft yourself up."


End file.
